He had been sitting there only a few minutes when he heard a strange noise overhead, and looking up he saw a large hawk pursuing a beautiful brown dove. The dove flew this way and that, squeaking piteously, and at last fluttered to the ground at Daimur's feet, while the hawk swooped down to seize it; but Daimur jumped to his feet, and waving his arms beat it off and it flew away in fright.
When it was gone Daimur turned to look at the brown dove, which was lying quite still on the grass with its eyes closed.
"Poor thing," thought he, "I wonder if water would revive it," and he poured out a little in his hand and dropped some of it into the bird's beak.
In a few seconds the dove opened its eyes, and to Daimur's surprise spoke.
"Thank you, brave young man," it said. "You have saved my life, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am. The reason I am so weak is that I am nearly dead of hunger and thirst."
"Unfortunate creature," exclaimed Daimur, as he gave it a few drops more of the water, "I have some biscuits which you shall share," and so saying he proceeded to crumble one of the biscuits, which the dove seemed to hesitate to take.
"Unhappy young man," it said in a sorrowful voice, "I cannot take your last morsel, for this is the last pure food and fresh water you will ever get while you stay on this island."
"That may be quite true," replied Daimur, "but I cannot eat any of it while I feel that another creature is more in need of it than I," and after some pressing the dove hungrily ate up the biscuit.
When he had finished he was apparently much stronger, and hopped upon Daimur's knee.
"Look at me," he said, "and tell me what I am."