moor, and the archers began to shoot.

It had been a strange battle; we had never fought better, and yet
withal it had ended in a retreat; indeed all along every man but
Arnald and myself, even Hugh, had been trying at least to get the
enemy between him and the way toward the pass; and now we were all
drifting that way, the enemy trying to cut us off, but never able to
stop us, because he could only throw small bodies of men in our way,
whom we scattered and put to flight in their turn.

I never cared less for my life than then; indeed, in spite of all my
boasting and hardness of belief, I should have been happy to have
died, such a strange weight of apprehension was on me; and yet I got
no scratch even. I had soon put off my great helm, and was fighting in
my mail-coif only: and here I swear that three knights together
charged me, aiming at my bare face, yet never touched me. For, as for
one, I put his lance aside with my sword, and the other two in some
most wonderful manner got their spears locked in each other's armour,
and so had to submit to be knocked off their horses.

And we still neared the pass, and began to see distinctly the ferns
that grew on the rocks, and the fair country between the rift in them,
spreading out there, blue-shadowed. Whereupon came a great rush of men
of both sides, striking side blows at each other, spitting, cursing,
and shrieking, as they tore away like a herd of wild hogs. So, being
careless of lfe, as I said, I drew rein, and turning my horse, waited
quietly for them. And I knotted the reins, and laid them on the
horse's neck, and stroked him, that he whinnied, then got both my
hands to my sword.

Then, as they came on, I noted hurriedly that the first man was one of
Arnald's men, and one of our men behind him leaned forward to prod him
with his spear, but could not reach so far, till he himself was run
through the eye with a spear, and throwing his arms up fell dead with
a shriek. Also I noted concerning this first man that the laces of his
helmet were loose, and when he saw me he lifted his left hand to his
head, took off his helm and cast it at me, and still tore on; the
helmet flew over my head, and I sitting still there, swung out,
hitting him on the neck; his head flew right off, for the mail no more
held than a piece of silk. "Mary rings," and my horse whinnied again,
and we both of us went at it, and fairly stopped that rout, so that
there was a knot of quite close and d