Most of us could not understand it or believe it, but somehow there had grown up a sort of what they called religion in the tribe, and a belief that we could be helped in our undertakings and preserved from evil by the aid of some great Being in the skies, and this Being was thought by these worshippers to be the kindly moon which gave us light by night, when otherwise we would have been more helpless. So, in the cabins of those who held the faith, was kept as a charm a crescent made of stone which was counted a sure aid and protection. Little faith had I in the belief or the crescent, but, as I have said, what happened on this day somewhat affected me the other way. The babe was lying in the sunshine in the little fenced-off pen on the platform, of the kind in which the very young children were placed for safety’s sake, when it was seen by the great lammergeyer--the lamb-killer--which was hovering in the sky far overhead, and the huge bird dropped down upon it as it would fall upon a lamb in the hills. It came with a roaring swoop, swept upward with the babe in its talons, and sailed away with it above the lake, though flying somewhat lower and more heavily than usual. Then came the marvel! Fishing far out on the waters was Lars, the best bowman of the tribe, save I, perhaps, but not so far that he did not hear the shrieks of Mona. They could have been heard a long way, those shrieks. And, by the merest chance, from hope of a shot at some water fowl, Lars had his bow with him, lying ready strung by his side and an arrow with it. He seized the bow and stood with arrow poised as the great bird came winging its way directly toward him, the child dangling below. He drew the arrow to the head and, as the bird came nearly over him, he let go the shaft. There was certainly the chance that he might kill the babe, but better such a death than to be torn to pieces by the lammergeyer. Yet the arrow did not touch the child, though it slew the devouring bird, passing fairly through its neck and bringing it down shrieking and fluttering and tossing to the water. Lars lifted out both babe and bird, the child with hardly a scratch upon it, the bird’s talons having clutched it where was its thick and protecting little breechclout. It was good to look upon the joy of Mona when she had her babe in her arms again. It was good, also, that Lars had killed the lammergeyer! Long had it circled in the sky above us, seeking a chance to descend upon and rob us of our lambs. And this was what made it seem to me that, mayhap, there might be something to the stone crescent and the worship of the moon. Surely Yak and Mona had been strangely helped.