He himself came last of all.
When Wulfhere came, swimming beside the boat in which sat Wislac, he took three men and went quietly to Combwich, which was nearly half a mile from where we landed, and was back presently, reporting all quiet.
Then Dudda and the other rowers sank the boats, lest they should be seen by chance, and so betray us and our crossing.
Now we went--I leading through this place I knew so well--round the head of the little creek, and so on up the hill, walking in single file almost, and very silently.

And when we topped the hill--there before us, among the tree trunks, glowed a little fire, and round that sat six Danes, wrapped in their red cloaks, and, as I could see, all or most of them asleep.
At that I stopped, and the line behind me stopped also, making a clatter of arms as men ran against one another in the dark.
One of the Danes stirred at that, and looked up and round; but he could see nothing, and so folded himself up again.

Then I saw that they had an ale cask.
Now I knew that this post must be surrounded and taken, and whispered to Wulfhere, who was next me, what to do.

And he answered that he would manage it, bidding me stand still.

Then he went down the line, whispering in each man's ear, till he had told off twenty men, and them he sent off right and left into the darkness and I was left with Wislac standing alone, watching the Danes.
I kept my eyes fixed on them till they seemed to waver and grow dim, so intently did I watch them; and then all of a sudden there was the sound of a raven's croak, and into the firelight and on those careless watchers leapt Wulfhere and his men from all around.
There was one choked cry, and that was all, and Wulfhere beckoned to me.
I advanced, and the line closed up and followed.
Now we stood on Combwich hill, and all was well so far.