No hounds will follow us over that hideous heath and through that Stygian stream.
"Can we get across and live ?" I ask.

"Will it bear ?" "I think so.

But out with your knife and cut some twigs; and where are your flint and steel ?" "What are you going to do ?" "Set the forest on fire--the wind is from us--and instead of following us farther--and who knows that they won't try ?--instead of following us farther they will have to hark back and run for their lives." Without another word we set to work gathering twigs, which we place among the trees.

Then I dig up with my knife and add to the heap several pieces of the brimstone impregnated turf.

This done, I strike a light with my flint and steel.
"Good!" exclaims Carmen.