In its recesses were wild tribes,
little changed from their heathen ancestors, who danced round the
altar of Thor, and well was it for the peaceful traveler that he
could tread the high open road of the chalk land with no need to
wander into so dangerous a tract, where soft clay, tangled forest
and wild men all barred his progress.
But apart from the rolling country upon the left and the great
forest-hidden plain upon the right, there was much upon the road
itself to engage the attention of the wayfarers. It was crowded
with people. As far as their eyes could carry they could see the
black dots scattered thickly upon the thin white band, sometimes
single, sometimes several abreast, sometimes in moving crowds,
where a drove of pilgrims held together for mutual protection, or
a nobleman showed his greatness by the number of retainers who
trailed at his heels. At that time the main roads were very
crowded, for there were many wandering people in the land. Of
all sorts and kinds, they passed in an unbroken stream before the
eyes of Nigel and of Aylward, alike only in the fact that one and
all were powdered from their hair to their shoes with the gray
dust of the chalk.
There were monks journeying from one cell to another, Benedictines
with their black gowns looped up to show their white skirts,
Carthusians in white, and pied Cistercians.
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