“I see the thread quite plain,” said the boy to himself, “the very place where it enters the dark wood on the other side. I will just jump to the nest, and in a moment I shall have the eggs in my pocket, and then spring back and catch the thread again. I cannot lose it here, with the sun shining; and, besides, I see it a long way before me.” So he took one step to seize the eggs; but he was in such haste that he fell and crushed the nest, breaking the eggs to pieces, and the little bird screamed and flew away; and then all at once the birds in the trees began to fly about, and a large owl flew out of a dark glade, and cried, “Whoo—whoo—whoo-oo-oo!” and a cloud came over the sun!
Eric’s heart beat quick, and he made a grasp at his gold thread, but it was not there! Another, and another grasp, but it was not there! and soon he saw it waving far above his head, like a gossamer thread in the breeze. You would have pitied him, while you could not have helped being angry with him for having been so silly and disobedient when thus tried, if you had only seen his pale face, as he looked above him for his thread, and about him for the road, but could see neither! And he became so confused with his fall, that he did not know which side of the open glade he had entered, nor to which point he was travelling. But at last he thought he heard a bird chirping, “Seek—seek—seek!” and another repeating, “Try again—try again—try—try!” and then he remembered what the lady had said to him, and he fell on his knees and told all his grief, and cried, “Oh, give me back my thread! and help me never, never, to let it go again!”
As he lifted up his eyes, he saw the thread come slowly, slowly down; and when it came near, he sprang to it and caught it, and he did not know whether to laugh, or cry, or sing, he was so thankful and happy! “Ah!” said he, “I hope I shall never forget this fall!” That part of the Lord’s Prayer came into his mind which says, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
“Who would have thought,” said he to himself, “that I was in any danger in such a beautiful, green, sunny place as this!”
Then on he went, and a large crow on a tree was hoarsely croaking, “Beware, beware!”
“Thank you, Mr. Crow,” said the boy, “I shall;” and he threw him a bit of bread for his good advice, and ran on gaily to make up for lost time.
But now the thread led him through the strangest places. One was a very dark deep ravine, with a stream that roared and rushed far down, and overhead the rocks seemed to meet, and thick bushes concealed the light, and nothing could Eric see but the gold thread, that looked like a thread of fire, though even that grew dim sometimes, until he could only feel it in his hand. And whither he was going he knew not. At times he seemed to be on the edge of a precipice, until he almost thought the next step must lead him over and plunge him down; but just when he came to the very edge, the thread would lead him quite safely along it. Then appeared a rock which looked like a wall, and he would say to himself, “Well, I must be stopped here! I shall never be able to climb up!” But just as he touched it, he would find steps cut in it, and up, up, the thread would lead him to the top! Then it would bring him down, down, until he once stood beside a raging stream, and the water foamed and dashed. “And now,” he would think, “I must be drowned; but never mind, I will not let my thread go.” But so it was, that when he came so near the stream as to feel the spray upon his cheek, and thought he must leap in if he followed his thread, what would he see but a little bridge that passed from bank to bank, and by which he crossed in perfect safety; until he began to lose fear, and to believe more and more that he would always be in the right road, as long as he did not trust mere appearances, but kept hold of his thread!
At last Eric got very tired and hungry, for his cake was nearly done, and he had started early, and it was now well on in the day. But what was very strange, the thread supported him more than a staff could have done, and seemed to lift him up from the ground and make him go lightly along.
CHAPTER IV.
Eric had now to endure a great trial of his faith in the thread. As he journeyed on, the thread led him up a winding path towards the summit of a hill, descending which the large trees of the forest were left behind, and small stunted bushes grew among masses of gray rocks. The path was like the bed of a dry brook, and was often very steep. There were no birds, except little stonechats, that hopped and chirped among the large round stones. Far below, he could see the tops of the trees, and here and there a stream glittering under the sunbeams. Nothing disturbed the silence but the hoarse croak of the raven, or the wild cry of a kite or an eagle, that, like a speck, wheeled far up in the sky. But, suddenly, Eric heard a roar like thunder, that seemed to come from the direction towards which the thread was leading him. He stopped for a moment, but the thread was firm in his hand and led right up the hill. On he went, and no wonder he was afraid, when, as he turned the corner of a rock, he heard another roar, and saw the head of a large lion looking out of what seemed to be a cave, a few yards back from the edge of a dizzy precipice! He saw, too, that the path he must follow was between the lion’s den and the precipice! What now was to be done? Would he give up his thread and fly? No! A voice in his heart encouraged him to be brave and not fear, and he knew from his experience that he had always been led in safety and peace when he followed the road, holding fast to his thread. He was certain that his father never would deceive him, or bid him do anything but what was right; and he was sure, too, that the lady, from her love to him, and her teaching him to trust God and to pray, would not have bid him do anything that was wrong. And then an old verse his nurse taught him came into his mind,—