So he went in, maybe fearing his sickness, which was indeed a sore burden to him, though he was wont to make light of it; but Ethelnoth asked me if we should not spend the hours of evening light in coursing a bustard or two, for many were about the moorland close at hand.

They would be welcome at the king's table, he said; and I, fresh from the sea and camp, asked for nothing better than a good gallop over the wide-stretching hillsides.
So we took fresh horses from those that were led for us, and rode away.

We took hawks--the king had given me a good one when we started, for a Saxon noble ever rides with hawk on wrist--and two leash of greyhounds.
I was for putting my arms aside, but the ealdorman said it was better not to do so, by reason of the moor folk, who were wild enough to fall on a small party at times.

It was of little moment, however; for we rode in the lighter buff jerkins instead of heavy mail, and were not going far.
Ethelnoth took two men with him, and my two comrades were with me--Kolgrim leading the hounds in leash beside his horse.

We went across the first hillside, and from its top looked northward and westward as far as one could see over the strange grey wastes of the moorland.
Then from the heather almost under our feet rose a great bustard that ran down wind with outstretched wings before us, seeking the lonelier country.