A pair of wild peacocks started up at the riders' approach and alighted again at a little distance.

The ascent became steeper.

Horses bred in the lowlands must have long since succumbed to the strain put upon them, but Aaron's good mountain ponies showed not even a drop of sweat on their sleek coats.
Gaining the mountain top at length, the travellers saw before them a wild moor threaded by a narrow path, which they were obliged to follow in single file, Zenobia taking the lead.

The sun was high in the heavens when they reached the end of this tortuous path and found themselves at a point where their road led downward into the valley below.

A venerable beech-tree, perhaps centuries old, marked this spot.