"Call me whatever thou willst," Eric replied. "I shall think of thee when I am far; for didst thou not tend me with loving care? Didst thou not feed me when I was famished and tired? Didst thou not save me when I knew I could move no farther? No brother could have done more; and one day, perhaps, we shall meet again. What is thy name?"
"I am called Radu the shepherd, and my father possesses two fields and a cart, with oxen that are grey like the stones on the road; their horns are so long that it is difficult for them to hold their heads close together; but we are poor all the same, and that is why I tend my flocks on these mountain pastures so far from my village. But if thou dost tarry for a time in yonder plains I may meet thee yet when I return to my home; but one thing I must give thee before thou goest—thy shoes are quite beyond repair—I have a couple of new sandals meant for Sunday use; they may not be what thou art accustomed to wear, but my heart will be glad if thou wilt accept so small a gift from me. Also I must see to thy wounds. I have an ointment, made by the wisest woman of our village, that can heal any sore. Come into my lowly hut and it will be my joy to dress thee and bind up thy cruel cuts!"
Eric gladly followed his kind friend, deeply touched by so much simple hospitality, and gave himself over into the clever hands of the boy: he was soon freshly bandaged with a soothing salve spread upon his aching scars.
Then he put on his neatly patched clothes, and let his host fasten the sandals on his feet, wind the long leather thongs about his legs, and tie them firmly under the knee.
Not yet content with all he had done, the boy searched about in the painted chest, and drew from its depths a long staff, richly decorated with patterns cut out of metal and fixed upon the wood with tiny nails.
"This I have worked upon for years, inventing the most intricate designs. It has been the pleasure of my lonely hours, and I want thee to have it, because never have I loved a face as much as thine; nothing so fair has ever come my way! But don't forget Radu the shepherd! It would grieve me sore!"
Now the beautiful sword was girt round our wanderer's waist, the much-used cloak hung over his back; and then, taking the boy's present in his hand, he drew the kindly friend into his arms and held him long in a warm embrace.
When the peasant lifted his head from Eric's shoulder large hot tears were running down his cheeks.
For a last time the two boys firmly clasped hands, and then Eric tore himself away. The falcon spread its white wings and flew before him leading the way.
Several times Eric turned to look his last on the comrade who had been so kind; there he stood silhouetted against the sky, leaning as ever upon his staff, his flock around him, his dogs at his feet.