He looked around him, desperation in his eyes; they had reached an opening in the wood—a circular glade surrounded by gaunt trees, and nowhere a path to be seen, and nowhere the smallest sign how he could get out of this drear forest, that shut him in like forbidding walls.
He pressed the maiden's face close to his, taking comfort from the soft cheek that was laid against his.
And the child stood beside the kneeling man, and gently with timid hands stroked his tumbled locks, all the time peering at him with anxious attention.
Eric was still too weak to rise to his feet, so he remained kneeling, scanning the solitudes with hopeless bewilderment. The wind still howled through the tree-tops, from which dismal voices seemed to be chanting ever the same dreary ditty, and sometimes it rose to such a din that it was more like unto the wild songs of savage hordes carrying their dead to the grave.
The falcon was nowhere to be seen; even that companion had flown away, so that they were alone—quite alone—in this fantastic, oppressive wilderness.
A last shine of daylight still rested over all, and with horror clutching at his heart Gundian now perceived that running in lines all over the snow that lay before him were small footprints resembling those of a dog! Ah! but no dogs could inhabit so forsaken a forest; the kindly friend of man would not lose his way amongst these impenetrable thickets; those marks in the snow had quite another explanation, confirming the fear he had had before;—but something must be done: action would revive him,—he could not remain thus to perish miserably without trying at least to save the treasured child.
With a superhuman effort he rose to his feet,—for a moment his young body swayed like a sapling in the wind; but he would not—would not give way! What was to be done? He had heard that great fires frightened off beasts of prey—a small flame even was supposed to keep them at bay; and he remembered the legend of a maiden wandering alone in a forest with only a small lamp in her hand protecting her from harm,—surely he would not be weaker than she. Bending down to his companion he told her to help him to gather dry twigs in the underwood; he blew upon her frozen fingers which were stiff and icy like his own.
From his pocket he took the precious box, and together they shared one of the remaining tablets which revived them in an extraordinary way; a smile even came back to the face of the wee innocent at his side.
Now with feverish haste they were gathering fallen branches from under the hostile trees, that angrily bent their mighty heads towards them, but were unable to reach down to anything so far beneath.
The bundle grew and grew, and in their absorbing work they for a moment forgot the terrors around; once even the small girl's voice rang out in a merry laugh, as she dragged a heavy log behind her, almost as large as herself. Soon Eric was crouching beside the stack they had collected and trying with his icy fingers to make the sparks fly from his flint;—many a time did he hit the hard stone in vain, but at last a welcome sound was heard—a soft crackling that became louder, till at last a bright flame shot out over the dry timber they had so patiently heaped up. Both frozen wayfarers stretched out their numbed hands to the saving warmth. As they did so they smiled at each other from either side of the burning faggots; the cheering glow lit up their pinched and tired faces, giving them again the radiant look of health.