The Dark is Rising, a drama by Susan Cooper for BBC World Service.
Episode 11, The Hunt Rides.
And the white mare, skimming the firming water and leapt westwards with desperate speed,
yet still Merriman urged her on and will knew why.
For the great black tornado column of the dark are gathered again,
even faster than before, bridging earth and sky.
It was following along and it was moving very fast.
This is the peak of it all, Will.
You have the six signs that they are not yet joined.
If the dark can take you now, they take all they need to rise to power.
On they galloped past houses and shops,
and unwitting people fighting the floods across fields through trees,
and always a great black spinning column of the dark with the right-awaited centre pursued them.
Will sense now that the grey-masked sky was no longer empty of life, but peopled with creatures,
neither of the dark nor of the light, clustering, separating, holding great power.
And then, with swift enchanted eaves, they both slid to the ground.
The mare bent her head to the middle, laid his hand on her tough, smooth, white neck.
Look, Will.
Look.
That tree.