“Don’t tell me！” said Bree. “That‘s not a farmer’s riding. Nor a farmer‘s horse either. Can’t you tell by the sound？ That‘s quality， that horse is. And it’s being ridden by a real horseman. I tell you what it is， Shasta. There‘s a Tarkaan under the edge of that wood. Not on his war horse.it’s too light for that. On a fine blood mare， I should say.”
“Well， it‘s stopped now， whatever it is，” said Shasta. “You’re right，” said Bree. “And why should he stop justwhen we do？ Shasta， my boy， I do believe there‘s someone shadowing us at last.”
“What shall we do？” said Shasta in a lower whisper than before. “Do you think he can see us as well as hear us？”
“Not in this light so long as we stay quite still，” answered Bree. “But look！ There’s a cloud coming up. I‘ll wait till that gets over the moon. Then we’ll get off to our right as quietly as we can， down to the shore. We can hide among the sandhills if the worst comes to the worst.”
They waited till the cloud covered the moon and then， first at a walking pace and afterwards at a gentle trot， made for the shore.