144 OUR WOODLAND TREES. 
glen, by the Oak whose site is marked by the 
memorial stone; and around the page of history 
which records this tragic ending of a fiercely 
oppressive and tyrannical King, there still hangs a 
mystery which will never, probably, be cleared up. 
It is recorded by one of the chroniclers of the 
time that Rufus, the day before his death, had a 
fearful dream, in which he had seen blood flowing 
from a wound in his body. At the same time 
one of the King’s friends had a dream which fore- 
shadowed ill to Rufus. Fiercely courageous as he 
was, he nevertheless was sufficiently impressed 
by the two dreams to refrain from hunting until 
late in the afternoon, when, heated by wine, he 
sallied forth. He had passed the night at Mal- 
wood lodge in the New Forest, near Stoney Cross, 
and he started for the hunt on the fatal 2nd of 
August, in company with his brother Henry, Sir 
Walter Tyrrel, and others. Whilst in Canterton 
Glen—one account says—Rufus saw a stag sud- 
denly bound by. The King drew his bow at it 
and struck, but succeeded only in slightly wound- 
ing, it. The animal, unimpeded by the hurt, 
bounded away through the forest. The sun was 
