"Hurrah! Hurrah!" he shouted, as he rode on.
Then his followers took the cry from him, jeering at their enemies, and
on that morning they let not one escape, but slew them all, saving one
man only, and took the horses that were alive. But from that time, the
Christians began to cry, "Hurrah!" And when men shout to-day, "Hurrah
for the king," they know not that they are crying, "Kill for the king."
But Gilbert saw that the place where this happened was a very dangerous
one, though the entrance to it was broad and pleasant, through a high
valley where there were certain huts in which shepherds dwelt, and
grass and water. Therefore he turned back quickly when the killing was
over, and he took the chief of the guides by the throat, holding his
head down upon the pommel of his saddle, and bade him show a better way
if he would keep his head on his shoulders.
"My lord, there is no other way," cried the man, fright-struck.
"Very well," answered Gilbert, drawing his red sword again. "If there
is no other way, I shall not need you any more, my man."
When the fellow heard the sheath sucking the wet steel, he screamed for
terror, crying out that there was another way. So they rode back to the
entrance of the valley, and the man began to lead them up a steep track
among trees; and above the trees they came to a desolate, stony ridge;
but still they could ride, though it was a very toilsome way.
When they had reached the top, after three hours, Gilbert saw that he
was at the true pass, broad and straight, opening down to grassy slopes
beyond, between crags that would not give a foothold to a goat.
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