But now the cry of the hound was heard again, for Lorn and his band were on the trail. The king and his companion hastily entered a small stream near by, to break the scent of the hound, and as the dog bounded up and down the banks, having lost all scent of his master, the foster-brother of King Robert shot him dead with an arrow, from their retreat in the forest. They then fled in safety from their pursuers, who gave up the chase. But King Robert had escaped from the bloodhound only to fall into other dangers. Three freebooters, pretending to be friends of the Scottish king, joined him and his foster-brother in their retreat through the forest. Bruce, suspecting these companions, desired them to walk at some distance before. “We seek the Scottish king,” said the strangers: “you need not mistrust us.” “Neither do I,” replied Robert; “but until we are better acquainted, you must walk thus.” When they came to a ruinous hut, where they rested for the night, the king ordered the strangers to remain at the other end of the room. But the past fatigues overcoming them, at last Bruce and his foster-brother fell asleep. The king was roused from his slumbers by the approach of the three villanous freebooters, with arms in their hands, intent on his assassination. Robert laid hold of his sword, and stepping heavily over his foster-brother, to awaken him, he rushed upon the assassins. After a fierce combat, in which his faithful foster-brother was killed, Bruce succeeded in overcoming these three villains, and left them dead on the spot.