A hoarse shout answered them across the bare woods.
'That's old Hobden,' said Una.
' Small blame to him. It is in his blood/ said Puck. 'Did your beaters cry so, Sir Richard?'
'My faith, they forgot all else. (Steady, Swallow, steady!) They forgot where the King and his people waited to shoot. They followed the deer to the very edge of the open till the first flight of wild arrows from the stands flew fair over them.
'I cried, 'Ware shot! 'Ware shot!' and a knot of young knights new from Normandy, that had strayed away from the Grand Stand, turned about, and in mere sport loosed off at our line shouting: 'Ware Senlac arrows! 'Ware Senlac arrows!' A jest, I grant you, but too sharp. One of our beaters answered in Saxon: 'Ware New Forest arrows! 'Ware Red William's arrow!' so I judged it time to end the jests, and when the boys saw my old mail gown (for, to shoot with strangers I count the same as war), they ceased shooting. So that was smoothed over, and we gave our beaters ale to wash down their anger. They were excusable! We—they had sweated to show our guests good sport, and our reward was a flight of hunting-arrows which no man loves, and worse, a churl's jibe over hard-fought, fair-lost Hastings fight. So before the next beat, Hugh and I assembled and called the beaters over by name, to steady them. The greater part we knew, but among the Netherfield men I saw an old, old man, in the dress of a pilgrim.
