To the nightingale He said: “Your song shall be the sweetest in all the world, for ever and ever; and only you shall sing the long night through.”
To the tree He said: “Little fir-tree, never more shall your branches be bare. Winter and summer you and your seedlings shall stay green, ever green.”
Last of all He blessed the brown bird: “Faithful little watcher, from this night forth you and your children shall have red breasts, that the world may never forget your gift to the Child of Bethlehem.”
The trapper smiled gravely at David.
“And that, my friend, was the robin.”
“Yes, I know,” said David, simply.
He felt very still and quiet inside, almost as if he had dreamed himself into the Romany camp beside the fire, and seen with his own eyes the coming of the Child. It seemed too real, too close to talk about just then; he even forgot to tell the trapper that he liked it. And then the trapper’s next words brought him to his feet.
“You are not knowing, it may be, that the night has fallen and the snow is with it again. Come, I think Nicholas Bassaraba will guide you safely to your hilltop.”
One glance through the window told David the truth of the words. It was almost dark outside and snow was very thick in the air.
Silently they put on their garments and fastened their snow-shoes. Then with the command to keep close at his heels, the trapper led the way up the trail.