before he saw her again, that sometimes made his memory grow dim. One day--it must have been several months after this meeting in the woods--David had been felling trees and gathering faggots of wood; for this was his daily task. Suddenly a bird’s clear, glad song broke upon the calm of the noontime air. It was unusual to hear any bird’s song at that hour; but to this fact David gave no thought, for the clear, rich sweetness of the notes held him spellbound. He paused, resting his axe upon the ground, his head thrown back, listening. He closed his eyes, for the beauty of the music was such that he desired to think only of it and to shut out all other thoughts from his mind. A deep silence fell upon the woodlands. Then, suddenly, but as gently as a breeze stirring the petals of a rose, the song came again--clear, sweet notes that thrilled through David’s heart. All at once, as the music faded again, a bird darted from the topmost branch of a neighbouring birch tree. The sunlight played upon its wings and breast, and the heavenly beauty of the little creature dazzled David’s eyes, as he caught a glimpse of it before it was lost in the deep shadows of the pine-clad hillside. But in that fleeting moment, he saw the colour of the bird. It was blue--the deep celestial blue of the cloudless sky. CHAPTER II THE BLUE BIRD’S TRAIL In an instant there appeared to David, as if in a vision, the moss-covered seat and the beautiful little old woman of so many months ago. Again he seemed to hear the words, “When you see the Bird, little boy, follow it.” Quick as thought David said to himself, “That is the Blue Bird--I _will_ follow it!” He stooped, picked up his woodsman’s axe and the sharp hunting knife in its leathern case, strapped the belt around his waist, swung the axe over his shoulder, and started off in the direction in which the bird had flown. He ran to the dark cedar grove toward which the Blue Bird had disappeared. There he hurried from tree to tree, seeking, in the thick foliage, the brightly iridescent gleam of the beautiful little creature’s feathers. But no sign of it could David find. After searching and searching, he sat down quite discouraged. Suddenly he heard again the clear liquid notes of the song. Springing to his feet, he looked in the direction of the bird’s music. And, sure enough, there was the exquisite creature, resting on a twig just above his head. This time he had a fine chance to study it carefully, to note the markings on its wings, head, and breast; and after this he never forgot how the Blue Bird looked--no, he remembered every detail through all the long years to come.