Saul could see nothing but his straight road before and behind, the impenetrable thicket and the white sky.

It was a lonely thing thus to journey.
While he had been under the forest, with an occasional squirrel or chipmunk to arrest his gaze, and with all things as familiar to sight as the environments of the house in which he was accustomed to live, Saul had felt the vigour of the morning, and eaten his cold fat bacon, sitting on the cart, without discontent.

But now it was afternoon--which, we all know, brings a somewhat more depressing air--and the budless thickets stood so close, so still, Saul became conscious that his load was a corpse.

He had hoped, in a dull way, to fall in with a companion on this made road; the chances were against it, and the chances prevailed.

Saul ate more bread and bacon.