This cap, or helmet, he forthwith placed upon his head.

Then he slung the quiver across his shoulders, wound the thong of the club around his right wrist, grasped the bow with the left hand, and rose to his feet.
Daylight was gone.

Only a flat golden segment blazed above the western peaks.

The peaks themselves, with the mountains, formed a huge mass of dark purple.

Over the valley night hovered already, but a streak of mist trailing here and there like a thin veil marked the course of the little brook.