Therewith she reached her hand to him, and he took it and kissed it and caressed it while she looked fondly at him, and they fared on sweetly and happily together.  But as this was a-saying and a-doing betwixt them, and a while after, they had heeded the Elder little or not at all, though he rode on the right hand of Ralph.  And for his part the old man said naught to them and made as if he heard them not, when they spake thuswise together.

Now they rode the wood on somewhat level ground for a while; then the trees began to thin, and the ground grew broken; and at last it was very rugged, with high hills and deep valleys, and all the land populous of wild beasts, so that about sunset they heard thrice the roar of a lion.  But ever the Sage led them by winding ways that he knew, round the feet of the hills, along stream-sides for the most part, and by passes over the mountain-necks when they needs must, which was twice in the day.

Dusk fell on them in a little valley, through which ran a stream bushed about its edges, and which for the rest was grassy and pleasant, with big sweet-chestnut trees scattered about it.

“Now,” quoth the Elder; “two things we have to beware of in this valley, the lions first; which, though belike they will not fall upon weaponed men, may well make an onslaught on your horses, if they wind them; and the loss of the beasts were sore to you as now.  But the second thing is the chase from Utterbol.  As to the lions, if ye build up a big fire, and keep somewhat aloof from the stream and its bushes, and tether you horses anigh the fire, ye will have no harm of them.”

“Yea,” said Ralph, “but if the riders of Utterbol are anigh us, shall we light a candle for them to show them the way?” Said the Sage:  “Were ye by yourselves, I would bid you journey night-long, and run all risk rather than the risk of falling into their hands.  But whereas I am your guide, I bid you kindle your fire under yonder big tree, and leave me to deal with the men of Utterbol; only whatso I bid you, that do ye straightway.”

“So be it,” said Ralph, “I have been bewrayed so oft of late, that I must needs trust thee, or all help shall fail me.  Let us to work.”  So they fell to and built up a big bale and kindled it, and their horses they tethered to the tree; and by then they had done this, dark night had fallen upon them.  So they cooked their victual at the fire (for Ralph had shot a hare by the way) and the Sage went down to the stream and fetched them water in a lethern budget:  “For,” said he, “I know the beasts of the wood and they me, and there is peace betwixt us.”  There then they sat to meat unarmed, for the Sage had said to them:  “Doff your armour; ye shall not come to handystrokes with the Utterbol Riders.”

So they ate their meat in the wilderness, and were nowise ungleeful, for to those twain the world seemed fair, and they hoped for great things.  But though they were glad, they were weary enough, for the way had been both rugged and long; so they lay them down to sleep while the night was yet young.  But or ever Ralph closed his eyes he saw the Sage standing up with his cloak wrapped about his head, and making strange signs with his right hand; so that he deemed that he would ward them by wizardry.  So therewith he turned about on the grass and was asleep at once.