Her light showed me that we were on a wild moorland, swampy, with scattered trees growing here and there, across which what seemed to be a game track ran down hill.

That was all I could make out.

Here the escort halted, and Simba the King said in a sullen voice: "Dismount and go your ways, evil spirits, for we travel no farther across this place which is haunted.

Follow the track and it will lead you to a lake.

Pass the lake and by morning you will come to the river beyond which lies the country of your friends.