The Wood Beyond the World

by William Morris

  CHAPTER XXVI: THEY COME TO THE FOLK OF THE BEARS

  On they went, and before long they were come up on to the down-country,where was scarce a tree, save gnarled and knotty thorn-bushes here andthere, but nought else higher than the whin. And here on these upperlands they saw that the pastures were much burned with the drought,albeit summer was not worn old. Now they went making due south towardthe mountains, whose heads they saw from time to time rising deep blueover the bleak greyness of the down-land ridges. And so they went, tillat last, hard on sunset, after they had climbed long over a high bent,they came to the brow thereof, and, looking down, beheld new tidings.

  There was a wide valley below them, greener than the downs which they hadcome over, and greener yet amidmost, from the watering of a stream which,all beset with willows, wound about the bottom. Sheep and neat werepasturing about the dale, and moreover a long line of smoke was going upstraight into the windless heavens from the midst of a ring of littleround houses built of turfs, and thatched with reed. And beyond that,toward an eastward-lying bight of the dale, they could see what lookedlike to a doom-ring of big stones, though there were no rocky places inthat land. About the cooking-fire amidst of the houses, and here andthere otherwhere, they saw, standing or going to and fro, huge figures ofmen and women, with children playing about betwixt them.

  They stood and gazed down at it for a minute or two, and though all wereat peace there, yet to Walter, at least, it seemed strange and awful. Hespake softly, as though he would not have his voice reach those men,though they were, forsooth, out of earshot of anything save a shout: "Arethese then the children of the Bear? What shall we do now?"

  She said: "Yea, of the Bear they be, though there be other folks of themfar and far away to the northward and eastward, near to the borders ofthe sea. And as to what we shall do, let us go down at once, andpeacefully. Indeed, by now there will be no escape from them; for loyou! they have seen us."

  Forsooth, some three or four of the big men had turned them toward thebent whereon stood the twain, and were hailing them in huge, roughvoices, wherein, howsoever, seemed to be no anger or threat. So the Maidtook Walter by the hand, and thus they went down quietly, and the Bear-folk, seeing them, stood all together, facing them, to abide theircoming. Walter saw of them, that though they were very tall and biglymade, they were not so far above the stature of men as to be marvels. Thecarles were long-haired, and shaggy of beard, and their hair all red ortawny; their skins, where their naked flesh showed, were burned brownwith sun and weather, but to a fair and pleasant brown, nought like toblackamoors. The queans were comely and well-eyed; nor was thereanything of fierce or evil-looking about either the carles or the queans,but somewhat grave and solemn of aspect were they. Clad were they all,saving the young men-children, but somewhat scantily, and in nought savesheep-skins or deer-skins.

  For weapons they saw amongst them clubs, and spears headed with bone orflint, and ugly axes of big flints set in wooden handles; nor was there,as far as they could see, either now or afterward, any bow amongst them.But some of the young men seemed to have slings done about theirshoulders.

  Now when they were come but three fathom from them, the Maid lifted upher voice, and spake clearly and sweetly: "Hail, ye folk of the Bears! wehave come amongst you, and that for your good and not for your hurt:wherefore we would know if we be welcome."

  There was an old man who stood foremost in the midst, clad in a mantle ofdeer-skins worked very goodly, and with a gold ring on his arm, and achaplet of blue stones on his head, and he spake: "Little are ye, but sogoodly, that if ye were but bigger, we should deem that ye were come fromthe Gods' House. Yet have I heard, that how mighty soever may the Godsbe, and chiefly our God, they be at whiles nought so bigly made as we ofthe Bears. How this may be, I wot not. But if ye be not of the Gods ortheir kindred, then are ye mere aliens; and we know not what to do withaliens, save we meet them in battle, or give them to the God, or save wemake them children of the Bear. But yet again, ye may be messengers ofsome folk who would bind friendship and alliance with us: in which caseye shall at the least depart in peace, and whiles ye are with us shall beour guests in all good cheer. Now, therefore, we bid you declare thematter unto us."

  Then spake the Maid: "Father, it were easy for us to declare what we beunto you here present. But, meseemeth, ye who be gathered round the firehere this evening are less than the whole tale of the children of theBear."

  "So it is, Maiden," said the elder, "that many more children hath theBear."

  "This then we bid you," said the Maid, "that ye send the tokens round andgather your people to you, and when they be assembled in the Doom-ring,then shall we put our errand before you; and according to that, shall yedeal with us."

  "Thou hast spoken well," said the elder; "and even so had we bidden youourselves. To-morrow, before noon, shall ye stand in the Doom-ring inthis Dale, and speak with the children of the Bear."

  Therewith he turned to his own folk and called out something, whereofthose twain knew not the meaning; and there came to him, one afteranother, six young men, unto each of whom he gave a thing from out hispouch, but what it was Walter might not see, save that it was little andof small account: to each, also, he spake a word or two, and straightthey set off running, one after the other, turning toward the bent whichwas over against that whereby the twain had come into the Dale, and weresoon out of sight in the gathering dusk.

  Then the elder turned him again to Walter and the Maid, and spake: "Manand woman, whatsoever ye may be, or whatsoever may abide you to-morrow,to-night, ye are welcome guests to us; so we bid you come eat and drinkat our fire."

  So they sat all together upon the grass round about the embers of thefire, and ate curds and cheese, and drank milk in abundance; and as thenight grew on them they quickened the fire, that they might have light.This wild folk talked merrily amongst themselves, with laughter enoughand friendly jests, but to the new-comers they were few-spoken, though,as the twain deemed, for no enmity that they bore them. But this foundWalter, that the younger ones, both men and women, seemed to find it ahard matter to keep their eyes off them; and seemed, withal, to gaze onthem with somewhat of doubt, or, it might be, of fear.

  So when the night was wearing a little, the elder arose and bade thetwain to come with him, and led them to a small house or booth, which wasamidmost of all, and somewhat bigger than the others, and he did them towit that they should rest there that night, and bade them sleep in peaceand without fear till the morrow. So they entered, and found bedsthereon of heather and ling, and they laid them down sweetly, likebrother and sister, when they had kissed each other. But they noted thatfour brisk men lay without the booth, and across the door, with theirweapons beside them, so that they must needs look upon themselves ascaptives.

  Then Walter might not refrain him, but spake: "Sweet and dear friend, Ihave come a long way from the quay at Langton, and the vision of theDwarf, the Maid, and the Lady; and for this kiss wherewith I have kissedthee e'en now, and the kindness of thine eyes, it was worth the time andthe travail. But to-morrow, meseemeth, I shall go no further in thisworld, though my journey be far longer than from Langton hither. And nowmay God and All Hallows keep thee amongst this wild folk, whenas I shallbe gone from thee."

  She laughed low and sweetly, and said: "Dear friend, dost thou speak tome thus mournfully to move me to love thee better? Then is thy labourlost; for no better may I love thee than now I do; and that is with minewhole heart. But keep a good courage, I bid thee; for we be not sunderedyet, nor shall we be. Nor do I deem that we shall die here, orto-morrow; but many years hence, after we have known all the sweetness oflife. Meanwhile, I bid thee good-night, fair friend!"