He got out of
the camp as soon as he could, and walked by the green banks of the
still Maeander. It was winter, but the grass was as fresh as it might
have been in spring, and a salt breeze floated up from the not distant
sea. He knew the country, for he himself had chosen the spot as a
camping-place for the army, and had advanced still farther when
messengers had brought him word to come back. To northward rolled away
the gentle hills beyond Ephesus, while to the south and east the
mountains of the Cadmus and Taurns rose rugged and sharp against the
pale sky--the range through which the army must next make its way to
Attalia. The time lacked an hour of sunset, and the clear air had taken
the first tinge of evening. Here and there in the plain the evergreen
ilex trees grew in little clumps, black against the sunlight, but dark
green, with glistening points among their shadows, where the afternoon
sun struck full upon them.
Gilbert had hoped to be alone, but there were parties of idlers along
the river-bank as far as he could see, and among them were many who
bore evergreen boughs and young cypress shoots of three and four years'
growth, which they were carrying back to the camp for the Christmas
festival. For there were many Normans in the army, and Franks from
Lorraine, and Northern men from Poland and Bohemia, and all the men of
the North would have their Yule trees before their tents, as their
heathen forefathers had done before them in the days of the old faith.
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