The sun climbed higher into the heavens, it became hotter and hotter, the poor Sparrow could hardly breathe. His wings were so tired and sore that he could hardly lift them. Still he flew further. He had resolved not to rest until the shadows would fall upon the earth.
Never had he lived through so long a day. Vainly his bright little eyes explored the heavens, but the great golden sphere of the sun shone brightly, would not go down.
“I was a fool,” thought the Sparrow. “Now I might be sitting at home in our nest, or be bathing in the puddle by the cherry-tree. Ah, how pleasant it would be to bathe; at this moment even the ocean would not be too large.” [[19]]
Still he flew steadily on. But now he flew slowly, every beat of his wings caused him dreadful pain. He began to hate the sun, this merciless glowing red sphere that would not go down. To give himself courage, he made up a little song, singing it very softly and moving his tired wings in time to its rhythm.
“My cause is the cause of my brothers,
My strength must save them all;
If I fail I do wrong to the others,
And their chains will never fall.”
At last, at last, great black shadows fell upon the earth. A refreshing breeze came flying, coolly fanning the weary Sparrow, carrying him gently along on its mighty wings.
As the sun went down behind a blue hill, the tired Sparrow alighted on a large meadow. He lay panting in the tall grass. The soft chirping of the crickets lulled him to sleep; his eyes closed.