Sir Gawain lay and slept softly, but the lord, who was keen on
woodcraft, was afoot early. After Mass he and his men ate a morsel, and
he asked for his steed; all the knights who should ride with him were
already mounted before the hall gates.
’Twas a fair frosty morning, for the sun rose red in ruddy vapour, and
the welkin was clear of clouds. The hunters scattered them by a forest
side, and the rocks rang again with the blast of their horns. Some came
on the scent of a fox, and a hound gave tongue; the huntsmen shouted,
and the pack followed in a crowd on the trail. The fox ran before them,
and when they saw him they pursued him with noise and much shouting, and
he wound and turned through many a thick grove, often cowering and
hearkening in a hedge. At last by a little ditch he leapt out of a
spinney, stole away slily by a copse path, and so out of the wood and
away from the bounds. But he went, ere he wist, to a chosen tryst, and
three started forth on him at once, so he must needs double back, and
betake him to the wood again.
Then was it joyful to hearken to the hounds; when all the pack had met
together and had sight of their game they made as loud a din as if all
the lofty cliffs had fallen clattering together. The huntsmen shouted
and threatened, and followed close upon him so that he might scarce
escape, but Reynard was wily, and he turned and doubled upon them, and
led the lord and his men over the hills, now on the slopes, now in the
vales, while the knight at home slept through the cold morning beneath
his costly curtains.