And now they came into Media, and the fear of pursuit was lost; so onward they pushed, avoiding the open roads. They passed through trackless forest-lands, through verdant valleys and up again to the crests of wooded hills, where at their feet the lands of foreign peoples stretched far and wide, their dwelling places marked by coils of smoke. Anon they skirted woodland villages, and, peering through a screen of leaves, saw naked children sporting in the sun, their naked mothers pounding grain with stones, while uncouth warriors drowsed at ease beneath the shade. Once, on a hillside, they came full face upon a hunter, bearing a forest pig upon his back, in his hand a spear. For a space the man stared stupidly, then dropped his burden, cast his spear at Huzim, and went shrieking down the slope. From stone to stone he leaped, as leaps a mountain goat, the while he cried out shrilly to his friends beneath; yet in his final plunge he bore no message save a shaft between his shoulder blades.
"Of a truth," sighed Huzim, "'twas pity to slay the fool, yet wise, perchance, for his tribesmen know not if we be an army or a single man. Come, hasten, mistress, lest his friends be cursed with curious minds."
They hastened on, and for a space no other mischief came to trouble them, though many evils stalked abroad by night and day; yet these were passed because of Huzim's cunning woodcraft, and Habal's wit in scenting peril from afar. Then, when the skin of Semiramis was tanned to a ruddy brown, and the steeds were lean and weary from their toil, the travellers neared the foothills of Hindu-Kush, to fall upon a grave mischance. They had come to a forest's edge, where a sloping plain of a league in width stretched out before them, ascending to the mountain steeps beyond; and here the Indian counseled that they lie concealed till the shades of night should fall, but Semiramis would have none of it.
"Nay," she urged; "I burn to reach the mountain top for a peep into the land of Bactria, and to know, perchance, if my lord still battleth there. Come, Huzim, lest I leave a faithful friend behind."
The servant shook his head and galloped after her, yet his hope came back again when the middle of the plain was reached and naught was seen save a watchful kite that swung in the blue above. Then Habal wheeled on the backward trail, and barked. From the forest left behind came a score of riders who spread to right and left, then lashed their mounts and advanced in a ragged line.