"Edwy did not remember how long he stood by the brook; but this is certain that the longer he felt himself to be alone, the more frightened he became, and soon began to fancy terrible things. There was towards the top of the rock from which the waters fell a huge old yew-tree, or rather bush, which hung forward over the fall. It looked very black in comparison with the tender green of the fresh leaves of the neighbouring trees, and the white and glittering spray of the water. Edwy looked at it and fancied that it moved; his eye was deceived by the dancing motion of the water. "Whilst he looked and looked, some great black bird came out from the midst of it uttering a harsh croaking noise. The little boy could bear no more; he turned away from the terrible bush and the terrible bird, and ran down the valley, leaving hut and all behind, and crying, as he always did when hurt or frightened, 'Papa! mamma! Oh, come, oh, come to Edwy!' "He ran and ran, whilst his little bare feet were pierced with pebbles, and his legs torn with briars, until he came to where the valley became narrower, and where one might have thought the rocks and banks on each side had been cleft by the hand of a giant, so nicely would they have fitted could they have been brought together again. The brook ran along a pebble channel between these rocks and banks, and there was a rude path which went in a line with the brook; a path which was used only by the gipsies and a few poor cottagers, whose shortest way from the great road at the end of the valley to their own houses was by that solitary way. "As Edwy ran, he still cried, 'Mamma! mamma! papa! papa! Oh, come, oh, come to Edwy!'--and he kept up his cry from time to time as he found breath to utter it, till his young voice began to be returned in a sort of hollow murmur. "When first he observed this, he was even more frightened than before; he stood and looked round, and then he turned with his back towards the hut, and ran and ran again, till he got deeper amongst the rocks. He stopped again, for the high black banks frightened him still more, and setting up his young voice he called again, and his call was the same as before. "He had scarcely finished his cry, when a voice, from whence he knew not, seemed to answer him; it said, 'Come, come to Edwy;' it said it once, it said it twice, it said it a third time, but it seemed each time more distant.