But he would not give way! He would not lay down his precious burden before he could find some cover for the night! To rest there upon that bed of snow would be certain death; his weariness was such, he knew if once he fell it would be to rise no more--he would hide his head in that icy shroud dragging down the precious life with his, to never, never move again. On--on ... but was the child of lead? Why had his arms become so weak? Why were dark vapours floating before his eyes?... Why had he a beating heart in each tingling nerve of his aching body? Why did his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth, whilst fire seemed to course down his throat? And now a great darkness suddenly wiped all things from his sight, and he fell with the impression that he was being suddenly hurled into the night.... But it was not long that he lay thus--instinct was stronger than all; besides, the warm arms of the frightened child seemed to drag him back to life, infusing new vitality into his spent frame; so he struggled to his knees, the little girl still clinging to his neck. He looked around him, desperation in his eyes; they had reached an opening in the wood--a circular glade surrounded by gaunt trees, and nowhere a path to be seen, and nowhere the smallest sign how he could get out of this drear forest, that shut him in like forbidding walls. He pressed the maiden's face close to his, taking comfort from the soft cheek that was laid against his. And the child stood beside the kneeling man, and gently with timid hands stroked his tumbled locks, all the time peering at him with anxious attention. Eric was still too weak to rise to his feet, so he remained kneeling, scanning the solitudes with hopeless bewilderment. The wind still howled through the tree-tops, from which dismal voices seemed to be chanting ever the same dreary ditty, and sometimes it rose to such a din that it was more like unto the wild songs of savage hordes carrying their dead to the grave. The falcon was nowhere to be seen; even that companion had flown away, so that they were alone--quite alone--in this fantastic, oppressive wilderness. A last shine of daylight still rested over all, and with horror clutching at his heart Gundian now perceived that running in lines all over the snow that lay before him were small footprints resembling those of a dog! Ah! but no dogs could inhabit so forsaken a forest; the kindly friend of man would not lose his way amongst these impenetrable thickets; those marks in the snow had quite another explanation, confirming the fear he had had before;--but something must be done: action would revive him,--he could not remain thus to perish miserably without trying at least to save the treasured child.