So they went back in triumph to the city, and they carded the brave son of Osslah on their shoulders, and shouted forth, “Glory to the servant of the star.” And Morven dwelt in the council of the wise men. Now the king of the tribe had one daughter, and she was stately amongst the women of the tribe, and fair to look upon. And Morven gazed upon her with the eyes of love, but he did not dare to speak. Now the son of Osslah laughed secretly at the foolishness of men; he loved them not, for they had mocked him; he honored them not, for he had blinded the wisest of their elders. He shunned their feasts and merriment and lived apart and solitary. The austerity of his life increased the mysterious homage which his commune with the stars had won him, and the boldest of the warriors bowed his head to the favorite of the gods. One day he was wandering by the side of the river, and he saw a large bird of prey rise from the earth, and give chase to a hawk that had not yet gained the full strength of its wings. From his youth the solitary Morven had loved to watch, in the great forests and by the banks of the mighty stream, the habits of the things which nature had submitted to man; and looking now on the birds, he said to himself, “Thus is it ever; by cunning or by strength each thing wishes to master its kind.” While thus, moralizing, the larger bird had stricken down the hawk, and it fell terrified and panting at his feet. Morven took the hawk in his hands, and the vulture shrieked above him, wheeling nearer and nearer to its protected prey; but Morven scared away the vulture, and placing the hawk in his bosom, he carried it home, and tended it carefully, and fed it from his hand until it had regained its strength; and the hawk knew him, and followed him as a dog. And Morven said, smiling to himself, “Behold, _the credulous fools around me put faith in the flight and motions of birds_. I will teach this poor hawk to minister to my ends.” So he tamed the bird, and tutored it according to its nature; but he concealed it carefully from others, and cherished it in secret. The king of the country was old and like to die, and the eyes of the tribe were turned to his two sons, nor knew they which was the worthier to reign. And Morven passing through the forest one evening, saw the younger of the two, who was a great hunter, sitting mournfully under an oak, and looking with musing eyes upon the ground. “Wherefore musest thou, O swift footed Siror?” said the son of Osslah; “and wherefore art thou sad?” “Thou canst not assist me,” answered the prince, sternly; “take thy way.” “Nay,” answered Morven, “thou knowest not what thou sayest; am I not the favorite of the stars?” “Away, I am no graybeard whom the approach of death makes doting: talk not to inc of the stars; I know only the things that my eye sees and my ear drinks in.”