With a superhuman effort he rose to his feet,--for a moment his young body swayed like a sapling in the wind; but he would not--would not give way! What was to be done? He had heard that great fires frightened off beasts of prey--a small flame even was supposed to keep them at bay; and he remembered the legend of a maiden wandering alone in a forest with only a small lamp in her hand protecting her from harm,--surely he would not be weaker than she. Bending down to his companion he told her to help him to gather dry twigs in the underwood; he blew upon her frozen fingers which were stiff and icy like his own. From his pocket he took the precious box, and together they shared one of the remaining tablets which revived them in an extraordinary way; a smile even came back to the face of the wee innocent at his side. Now with feverish haste they were gathering fallen branches from under the hostile trees, that angrily bent their mighty heads towards them, but were unable to reach down to anything so far beneath. The bundle grew and grew, and in their absorbing work they for a moment forgot the terrors around; once even the small girl's voice rang out in a merry laugh, as she dragged a heavy log behind her, almost as large as herself. Soon Eric was crouching beside the stack they had collected and trying with his icy fingers to make the sparks fly from his flint;--many a time did he hit the hard stone in vain, but at last a welcome sound was heard--a soft crackling that became louder, till at last a bright flame shot out over the dry timber they had so patiently heaped up. Both frozen wayfarers stretched out their numbed hands to the saving warmth. As they did so they smiled at each other from either side of the burning faggots; the cheering glow lit up their pinched and tired faces, giving them again the radiant look of health. "Come to me, little one," cried the man, and the small creature flew into his arms; then settling himself down, his back against a tree, quite near the blazing fire, he folded the forlorn little being tightly within his arms, his cloak drawn close over her, regardless of his own comfort, only thinking how to protect her against the deadly frost of the night. He took his sword from its sheath and laid it down beside him within reach of his hand. Long he sat thus, trying to penetrate the darkness, whilst the rhythmic breathing of his tired charge told him that for a while oblivion had mercifully descended upon her. But it was a weary time before he dared close his own burning eyes, so afraid was he that something dreadful might happen to the child whilst he slept. At length Nature would have her way--his head sank on his breast, the strained arms relaxed their hold, and all the misery was wiped from his mind by the kindly wings of sleep. XVI