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Eric had not slept many hours before he awoke with a start. All was pitch-black around him, only the form of the white hawk was outlined against the darkness, whilst the precious stone on its neck shone in lonely magnificence.

Eric sat up wondering what had torn him so suddenly out of his restful slumbers; he felt rather stiff from the hardness of his stony couch, so sprang to his feet and stood erect, listening, awaiting any danger that might threaten him out of the unknown. And then, suddenly, a wailing cry broke out of the stillness; it rose like a frightened sob into the air and rang through the night with a sound so full of terrible loneliness that it made the heart stand still.

The bird stretched its neck, its wings expanded ready to take flight, the light of the diamond twinkling on its breast.

Eric waited, trembling with expectancy; there was something weird and heartrending about that helpless cry out of this boundless solitude; again the dismal sound was heard, distinct and piercing like the terrified voice of a very small child in an agony of fear.

Eric could bear it no longer, and sprang in the direction whence the sound came.

At that moment his beautiful winged companion rose in the air, circling close around the path he was on, so that the jewel flashed in moving patterns like a small lantern being swung over his head.

Eric followed the tiny light, grateful for that dwarf spot of brightness, which shone in the thick darkness that hemmed him in on all sides. Many a time he stumbled over the stones that obstructed his road, often bruising his hands and knees, sometimes falling all his length, but always desperately aware how perilous and uncertain was this search in the impenetrable night.

Now the wonderful bird paused in its flight, and Eric saw the small light, suspended in the air, hovering over one particular spot: he groped about, his hands feeling everywhere—what was he to find? All at once, close above his head the pitiful voice was again heard, but this time quite near. With breathless anxiety Eric scaled the rock, quite unable to see where he was going; but his hands were always outstretched, carefully seeking about him, and now his fingers suddenly came in contact with something soft and warm!

With gentle precautions the young man drew the heavy object towards him, balancing himself with surprising agility upon the narrow ledge ... and there, in his arms, against his cheek he felt the soft face of a little child!... Yes, a little child, whose pitiful moan rose to the sky like a soul in distress. Clasping the small body close to his breast, the young man with an almost superhuman effort hoisted himself on to a shelf-like rock he had felt near by, and there he sat himself down with his precious bundle in his arms.

As he did so the falcon swooped out of the air on to his shoulder, so that the light of the gem could just fall upon the pale small face that looked up into his.

Such a sweet little face, out of which two frightened eyes stared up at him in speechless anxiety. Miserable rags alone covered the thin body that was shivering with cold.

Eric drew his cloak close around the trembling form and held it tight against him, whilst with kindly words he tried to calm its ceaseless whimper.

Long he sat thus in this vast black solitude, whilst upon his shoulder the friendly bird kept watch over the two forlorn young creatures who had been so strangely brought together in these lonely hills.

Eric's eyes closed, and the child too, feeling comforted, was quiet now, its head hidden against the kind heart that had been its saviour.

Probably both slept, because when Eric next looked up there was a faint red streak in the sky; the darkness of the night was slowly lifting.

The little girl was huddled up close in his arms slumbering sweetly.

Near by on a block of granite the beautiful hawk sat like a watchful guardian—his keen ever-open eyes fixed in an unblinking stare upon the rising sun.

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