Then the bank hid him from us; but we saw a Dane fixing arrow to bowstring, and saw him shoot; but he missed, surely, for he took another arrow and ran on down the bank.
Then Dudda pulled me by the arm, and motioned me to follow him, and I saw no more.
Now the creek wherein we were ran inland for a quarter mile that we could see, ever bending round so that our boats were hidden from the side where the Danes were.

Up that creek we ran, or rather paddled, therefore, knee deep in mud, but quite unseen by any but the great erne that fled over us crying.
Hard work it was, but before the creek ended we had covered half a mile away from danger, and looking back through the grass along the bank could see the Danes no longer.

Yet we had no surety that they could not see us, and therefore crawled yet among grass and thistles, along such hollows as we could find.
At last we dared stand up, and still we could see no Danes as we looked back.

And then we grew bolder and walked leisurely, as fishers might, not daring to run, across to that hut where the horses were.

And reaching that our adventure was ended, for we were safe, and believed ourselves unnoticed if not unseen, for there was no reason why the Danes should think aught of two thralls, as we seemed, crossing the marsh a mile away, and quietly, even if they spied us.
After we reached our horses, there is nothing to tell of our ride back to the bishop.