In Osbert’s camp all was feasting and merriment that night, but at last the whole host lay sleeping, and even the watchers around the camp dozed; till one, a half-drunk soldier, who paced the river side, heard the cry of the howlet from the wood which lay to the west of them, then answering cries from the northward and east, and the man wondered that so many owls should be about, and kicked the bits of wood into the stream with half-tipsy thoughtfulness. Twice the cry came again from the east, then Feargus from the south gave the answering cry—their first round of signals. Then each captain led his men in towards the camp and drew so near that, all being sunk in sleep, they could hear the tread of the watchers. Still the soldier paced the water side, until of a sudden, close to him on the west, he heard the cry of the wolf, then from the north and east the same weird sound arose; then came a pause, and Feargus, peering through the bulrushes in the river, singled out the camp of Osbert himself. At that moment the sentry was wondering whether to call the night guard seeing there were so many wolves abroad, but he fixed an arrow in his bow and waited, stirring the fire to brighter blaze to scare the wild creatures. Then from the south Feargus uttered the cry which was the final signal and all in a moment came the sound of the rush of Edwy and his Lindeseymen through the long sweet meadow grass to the north of them and the death cry of a wounded Anglian arose into the night. In a moment the camp of Osbert was awake and men were running wildly hither and thither, tumbling over one another in their hurry to get their arms, and the captains shouted to the men and the men knew not what had happened. Then midst all the confusion came showers of arrows from the osier planting to the east, showers from the wood that skirted them to the west, and showers from the bulrushes which lined the river bed. When they turned east the osiers started to life and dark and silent forms dashed forth to fall upon them like a frost wind upon the fields. Then the host of Osbert, half armed and half mad with fear, turned west, when the willow wood on that side of them rendered up its armed host, and Duncan and his Picts came upon them claymore in hand. Osbert’s captains shouted once more for order and urged their men to stand fast and set out the bowmen, and Osbert himself marshalled them and encouraged those that wrought with spears here, there the swordsmen. But to the Anglians and Lindeseymen, used as they were to the noise and rush of battle, the war cry and the clash of arms, there was something fearsome in the silence of their foes, and in their unusual size and garb. Osbert, finding enemies on three sides of him now turned his men with their backs to the river to protect their flank, when lo! a shower of arrows flew among them from the flank and the Anglians who stood in the rear ranks fell in droves, and as the terrible sense of being trapped by a