At last one, the oldest of the number, was silent, then another, then all, and Yégof continued:--"Yes, yes; that is a dismal story. See! behold! there is the river down which our blood flowed in streams! No matter, Merweg, no matter; the others have left their bones to whiten on the common, and the cold moon has seen their women tearing their hair for three days and three nights! Oh! that terrible day! Oh! the dogs! were they proud of their great victory! Let them be accursed--accursed!" The fool had cast his crown to the ground. He now picked it up, groaning as he did so. The wolves, still seated round, listened to him like attentive spectators. The biggest among them began to howl, and Yégof answered his complaint. "You are hungry, Sirimar; take comfort, take comfort; you will not want for food much longer; the men of our side are coming, and the strife will begin afresh." Then rising, and striking his sceptre on a stone. "See," said he, "behold thy bones!" He approached another. "And thine, Merweg, behold them!" said he. All the troop followed him, while he, raising himself upon a low rock, and glancing round upon the still and silent gorge, exclaimed:--"Our war song is silent! our war song is now a groan! The hour is near; it will re-awaken, and you will be among the warriors, you will possess once more these valleys and these mountains. Oh! that sound of wheels, those cries of women, those blows from crushing rocks and stones; I hear them; the air is full of them. Yes, yes; they fell on us from above, and we were surrounded. And now all is dead; hark! all is dead; your bones sleep, but your children are on their way, and your turn will come. Sing, sing!" And this time he himself began to howl, whilst the wolves broke out afresh in their savage war-cry. These dismal howls grew more and more loud and appalling, and the silence of the rocks around, some plunged in thick darkness, while others were fully revealed in the moon's bright rays, the solemn stillness of every tree and shrub beneath its weight of snow, the distant echoes replying with a mysterious voice to the mournful concert, all were calculated to strike terror into the breast of the old shepherd. But by degrees his fears grew less, for Yégof and his dismal followers were getting farther and farther away from him, and gradually retreating towards Hazlach. The raven, in his turn, unfurled his wings, and took his flight through the pale vault of heaven. The whole scene vanished like a dream! Robin heard for a long time after the howlings of the retreating wolves. They had completely ceased for more than twenty minutes, and not a sound broke the deep silence of the winter night, when the worthy man felt himself sufficiently recovered from his fright to come out of his hiding-place, and take his way back at full speed to the farm.