The roads were crowded enough, but Peter had no use for roads.

I can picture him swinging along with his bent back, stopping every now and then to sniff and listen, alert for the foreknowledge of danger.

When he chose he could cover country like an antelope.
Soon he struck a big road full of transport.

It was the road from Erzerum to the Palantuken pass, and he waited his chance and crossed it.

After that the ground grew rough with boulders and patches of thorn-trees, splendid cover where he could move fast without worrying.
Then he was pulled up suddenly on the bank of a river.