And with this he scraped together a heap of leaves, and made Gerard lie on it, his axe by his side.

He then lay down beside him, with one hand on his arbalest, and drew the bear-skin over them, hair inward.

They were soon as warm as toast, and fast asleep.
But long before the dawn Gerard woke his comrade.
"What shall I do, Denys, I die of famine ?" "Do?
why, go to sleep again incontinent: qui dort dine." "But I tell you I am too hungry to sleep," snapped Gerard.
"Let us march, then," replied Denys, with paternal indulgence.
He had a brief paroxysm of yawns; then made a small bundle of bears' ears, rolling them up in a strip of the skin, cut for the purpose; and they took the road.
Gerard leaned on his axe, and propped by Denys on the other side, hobbled along, not without sighs.
"I hate pain." said Gerard viciously.
"Therein you show judgment," replied papa smoothly.
It was a clear starlight night; and soon the moon rising revealed the end of the wood at no great distance: a pleasant sight, since Dusseldorf they knew was but a short league further.
At the edge of the wood they came upon something so mysterious that they stopped to gaze at it, before going up to it.

Two white pillars rose in the air, distant a few paces from each other; and between them stood many figures, that looked like human forms.
"I go no farther till I know what this is," said Gerard, in an agitated whisper.

"Are they effigies of the saints, for men to pray to on the road?
or live robbers waiting to shoot down honest travellers?
Nay, living men they cannot be, for they stand on nothing that I see.