"After him!" cried the furious Dane. "He cannot be far. This place is
full of signs of life. He has fled into the forest. After him! A king's
prize for the man who seizes him."
In vain their search, the flying king knew his own woods too well to be
overtaken by the Danes. Yet their far cries filled his ears, and roused
him to thoughts of desperate resistance. He looked around on his handful
of valiant followers.
"Let us face them!" he cried, in hot anger. "We are few, but we fight
for our homes. Let us meet these baying hounds!"
"No, no," answered the wisest of his thanes. "It would be worse than
rash, it would be madness. They are twenty--a hundred, mayhap--to our
one. Let us fly now, that we may fight hereafter. All is not lost while
our king is free, and we to aid him."
Alfred was quick to see the wisdom of this advice. He must bide his
time. To strike now might be to lose all. To wait might be to gain all.
He turned with a meaning look to his faithful thanes.
"In sooth, you speak well," he said. "The wisdom of the fox is now
better than the courage of the lion. We must part here. The land for the
time is the Danes'. We cannot hinder them. They will search homestead
and woodland for me.
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