They felt that he was but a bird of passage, that it lay not within their power to keep him for ever amongst them, and each day that they looked on his guileless face and on the light that kindled in his eye, was a gift from on high, a day of blessing and plenty. Eric could not explain why he remained, neither did he know why all of a sudden, one day of calm and gladness, he felt he must take up again the call of the road that lay before him. It was on a distant and lonely shore; the boat lay drawn up on the shell-covered beach. The golden-haired youth looked up into the sky and saw a small bird flying into the limitless distance. Then Eric knew that he must follow the direction in which the bird had disappeared. They could not stop him, he had to go. He took his thick stick in his hand, put his flute in his pocket, hung his cloak over his shoulder; then, turning round many a time to wave his cap to the rough companions of yesterday, he walked away into the growing heat of the day. VII Yet there was round thee such a dawn of light ne'er seen before. WOLFE. The shore was endless and straight, Eric felt no fatigue; his face was browned by the wind, the waves, and the sun. His eyes had taken some of the blue of sea and sky. His clothes were soiled, and looked less new than the day he had left King Wanda's palace. But the chain around his neck glistened in the heat of the noon. Eric walked and walked, advancing but slowly, because his feet sank into the deep sand as he went. As usual his heart was full of joy, and it mattered little to him where he went, although no changing beauty of the coast, no small cloud in the sky, no light in the sea passed by unnoticed. To him each separate beauty was like a picture his soul had conceived. Now high rocks began to change the aspect of the flat lonely coast, and soon all the young man's activity was needed to climb the obstacles that blocked his way. From that moment his advance became slower and more painful, he had to draw breath; more than once he had thrown himself down upon the soft sand, his golden locks hidden amongst the wet pebbles, his heart thumping against his side. But he loved it all, rocks and sea and burning sun; and each difficulty that arose on the road made him feel but all the happier. A joyful heart is one of God's most precious gifts. It was late afternoon; and, having climbed over some slippery rocks, Eric reached a quiet little bay, narrow, and rounded by precipitous cliffs on all sides. There the sea was very silent, very green and transparent, and the flat little waves hardly made a sound as each in turn left a white line of foam along the powdery sand. Eric lay on his back, his cap drawn over his eyes, his cloak rolled up under his head, a pleasant drowsiness filling his being after the efforts he had made.