But nowhere was his charity more clearly shown than with his own community at Iona. He foresaw the needs of all, and watched over his spiritual sons with a fatherly love and care. During one of the last summers of his life when the monks were coming back in the evening after a day of harvesting, they stopped short at a little distance from the monastery to enjoy the sense of peace and consolation that seemed to come to meet them as they approached their home. "How is it," asked one of the younger brethren, "that at this spot every night when we return from our daily labours, our hearts rejoice, our burdens grow light, and the very perfume of heaven seems borne to us on the breeze?" "I will tell you," said Baithen, the beloved friend and successor of Columba. "Our saintly abbot, whose heart is with us in our work, is praying for us and longing for our safe return. His heart is heavy with our weariness, and, having no longer the strength to come in the body to meet us and help us with our burdens, he sends forth the blessing and the prayer of his soul to refresh and console us on our way." Not only his fellow-men but all the creatures of God were dear to Columba for their Creator's sake. One day he bade a certain monk at Iona go down to the seashore and watch. "For," said the Saint, "ere the night falls a weary guest will arrive to us from Ireland, faint and ready to die. Succour her and tend her carefully for three days, and when she is rested and refreshed let her go, that she may return once more to her native land." The guest was a poor storm-driven crane which fell on the shore exhausted at the brother's feet. He bore it tenderly to the monastery and cared for it as his master had bidden. In the evening Columba met the monk and blessed him for his compassion to the weary stranger; and, as he had foretold, on the third day, strengthened and refreshed the bird took its flight back to Erin. CHAPTER X THE GIFT OF VISION WE have already seen how it was often given to St. Columba to know of events that were happening far away from the place where he might be, and how by his gift of prophecy he could sometimes foretell what would come to pass in the future. As he grew older it seemed to those who knew him intimately that these flashes of supernatural insight became more frequent, and that the things of the next world were growing daily more familiar to him as the time of his earthly pilgrimage drew to an end. Many instances of this have been recorded by his biographers.