But those hills are on the other side, Serge," said Marcus after a
time.

"Yes, and before long we shall come upon a shallow place that has been
forded. They'll have picked out a spot where the chariots could easily
pass, and what would do for them will do nicely for us, boy. So keep
on, and hold your eyes open, for where the Roman soldiers are, the
enemy's men will be pretty near at hand."

Soon after, the track followed a bend of the river, going nearer and
nearer, and then all at once struck straight for the bright flowing
water, ending at the trampled down bank, and reappearing plainly enough
on the farther side.

"Not above a foot deep," grunted Serge; and he proved to be right, the
water never once coming up to the chariot's axle trees, while the
ponies' hoofs just splashed in the barely covered gravel as they passed
out on to the springy grass on the farther side, where the track was
more plain than ever.

"Shall we get there before dark, Serge?" said Marcus, after a time.

"Hope so, boy, or we shall find it a bit hard. It's easy enough now,
but when the sun's down it will be rather hard to follow the marks with
all these trees overhead."

"But the path must soon begin to ascend the hill," said Marcus.

"I expect they'll have found it easier to walk round it and slope up
from the other side. I dare say they've got a good deal of baggage--
impedimenta, as we call it--else I should have thought that they might
have struck up the valley slope at once. It will be dark before long;
sooner than I expected."

"But they had the broad daylight, and of course taking a long sweep it
would be much easier for the chariots."

"Yes," grunted Serge, "I don't like having it dark. We mustn't strike
up at once, must we? It would be nearest."

"No," said Marcus, decisively; "we might not strike the track again, and
perhaps find that we had chosen the wrong hill, and have to come back."

"Yes, that's right," said the old soldier. "Slow but sure;" and the
ponies went steadily on, their hoofs rustling through the thick, moist
grass where it was not trampled down.

"What's the matter, Lupe? Thirsty?" asked Marcus, as the dog raised
himself up, looked over the front of the chariot, and then turned to
gaze wistfully in his master's eyes. "Want water, old fellow?"

The dog gave the speaker an intelligent look and then sprang out of the
chariot, and after trotting alongside for a time, bounded silently
forward and