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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"

But Bow-may
was walking towards the Sun-beam, and thitherward followed Gold-mane
speedily.
He found her sitting on a tussock of grass close by where she had
fallen, her face pale, her eyes eager and gleaming; she looked up at
him as he drew nigher and said:
'Friend, art thou hurt?'
'Nay,' he said, 'and thou? Thou art pale.'
'I am not hurt,' she said. Then she smiled and said again:
'Did I not tell thee that I am no warrior like Bow-may here? Such
deeds make maidens pale.'
Said Bow-may: 'If ye will have the truth, Gold-mane, she is not wont
to grow pale when battle is nigh her. Look you, she hath had the
gift of a new delight, and findeth it sweeter and softer than she had
any thought of; and now hath she feared lest it should be taken from
her.'
'Bow-may saith but the sooth,' said the Sun-beam simply, 'and kind it
is of her to say it. I saw thee, Bow-may, and good was thy shooting,
and I love thee for it.'
Said Bow-may: 'I never shoot otherwise than well. But those idle
shooters of the Dusky Ones, whereabouts nigh to thee went their
shafts?'
Said the Sun-beam: 'One just lifted the hair by my left ear, and
that was not so ill-aimed; as for the other, it pierced my raiment by
my right knee, and pinned me to the earth, so that I tottered and
fell, and my gown and smock are grievously wounded, both of them.


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