Accordingly, they descended the side of a pretty steep declivity, and, at the bottom, forming a sort of miniature valley, found the object of their search.  It was certainlyf a very small cave, if, indeed, the recess, which was not twelve feet deep, made by the jutting out of some huge rocks from the side of the hill, deserved the name.  A brook came dashing round before the cave, separating it as it were from its surroundings, and deepening its privacy; and over the entrance hung immense hemlock branches, sweeping with their evergreen plumes the rocky roof, and almost hiding the aperture.  It seemed impossible to have selected a place better adapted for concealment.

“We need not fear,” said the Knight, “to make a fire in this secluded spot.  It will serve to keep off wild animals, and as for Indians, they can hardly be expected to stumble on us.”

Arundel, as being only a follower, and inferior in experience of wood-craft to his elder friend, made no objection, but addressed himself to prepare for passing the night.  The two, with their hunting hatchets, cut from the moist land, watered by the brook, a quantity of hemlock boughs, wherewith to compose their beds, making couches more comfortable, and even luxurious to a tired wanderer, than one would suppose who had never tried them.  Next, they kindled a fire, whereupon supper was prepared—­some small game, consisting of partridges and rabbits which they had shot in the course of the day.  These, together with the parched corn they brought from home, not without a draught or two of aqua vitae tempered by the pure stream, satisfied the cravings of appetite.

“And now, Master Arundel,” said the Knight, after the repast was finished, during which he had looked with admiring eyes on the achievements of his companion, “tell me, didst ever, at princely banquet in courtly hall, enjoy with keener zest the artificial dishes of cunning cooks, designed to tickle the delicate and difficultly pleased palate?”

“Never,” answered Arundel.  “Knew the epicures of Europe the efficacy of a forest tramp, we should meet them oftener than Indians in the woods.”

“Thus deals boon nature with her children,” said Sir Christopher.  “Out of the richness of her abundance doth she prodigally supply what man, with all his devices, cannot obtain.  The scent of the woodland, the winged minstrelsy, the murmur of the brook, and tripping of the deer, say I, before the inventions and appliances of dissatisfied man, whereby he vainly tries to procure to himself pleasures which he might have for the asking.  But how fares it otherwise with thee?  Art not tired?  With me, who am an old campaigner, our tramp should be a trifle, and yet I confess my limbs are not as supple as in the morning.  Thou wert excusable shouldest thou feel it more.”

“I feel no fatigue now,” said Arundel, “though an hour ago I might have confessed it.  But what is that?” he exclaimed, grasping his gun.  “Methought I saw two eyes peering from the thicket.  Shall I fire?” he added, bringing the piece to his shoulder.