A shepherd boy went home with a tale of a strange thing he had seen
of a man running so fast it seemed he was scarcely in sight before
he was gone again.
And except for those two and one other none saw him at all and he
ran his race alone beneath the skies, across the bare country side.
It was at a spot where the path ran between two high hedges that he
came upon a little herd of cows a lad was driving home.
It seemed impossible to pass through that tangle of horns and tails
and plunging hoofs, and so indeed it was, but Dunn took another way,
and with one leap, cleared the first beast clean and alighted on the
back of the second.
Before the startled beast could plunge away he leaped again from
the vantage of its back and landed on the open ground beyond and
so on, darting full speed past the staring driver, whose tale that
he told when he got home caused him to go branded for years as a
liar.
On and on Dunn fled, without stay or pause, at the utmost of his
speed every second of time, every yard of distance. For he knew
he had need of every ounce of power he possessed or could call to
his aid, since he knew well that all, all, might hang upon a second
less or more, and now four miles lay behind him and four in front.
Still on he raced with labouring lungs and heart near to bursting
--onward still, swift, swift and sure, and now there were six
miles behind and only two in front, and he was beginning to come
to a part of the country that he knew.
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