THE GREAT LIONTHE LITTLE SQUIRRELAN OLD FRIENDTHE BLOODHOUNDTHE LAST TEMPTATION.

But Eric had now to endure a great trial of his faith in the thread. As he journeyed on, it led him up a winding path towards the summit of a hill. The large trees of the forest were soon 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 stone-chats, 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 eagle, that, like a speck, wheeled far up in the sky. But suddenly, Eric heard a roar like thunder coming 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 started, when, as he turned the corner of a rock, he heard another roar, and saw the head of a huge 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 lions den and the precipice. What now was to be done? Should 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 father taught him came into his mind

“In the darkest night, my child,
Canst thou see the Right, my child?
Forward then! God is near!
The Right will be light to thee,
Armour and might to thee;
Forward! and never fear!”

So Eric resolved to go on in faith. There was just one thing he saw which cheered him, and that was a white hare, sitting with her ears cocked, quite close to the lion’s den, and he wondered how she had no fear, but he could not explain it at the time. On he walked, but he could hardly breathe, as the thread led still nearer and nearer to the den. These big eyes were glaring on him, and seemed to draw him closer and closer! There the lion stood, on one side of the path, while the great precipice descended on the other. One step more, and he was between these two dangers. He moved on until he was so near that he seemed to feel the lion’s breath, and then the brute sprang out on him, and tried to strike him with his huge paw that would have crushed him to the dust! Eric shut his eyes, and gave himself up for lost. But the lion suddenly fell back, for he was held fast by a great iron chain, and so Eric passed in safety!

Oh, how thankful he was! and how gladly he ran down hill, the lion in his den roaring behind him! Down he ran until all was quiet again. As he pursued his journey in the beautiful green woods, something told him his greatest trial was past. He felt very peaceful and strong. And now, as he reached some noble old beech-trees, the thread fell on the grass, and he took this as a sign that he should lie down too, and so he did, grateful for the rest. He ate some of his cake, and drank from a clear spring beside him, and feasted on wild strawberries which grew in abundance all round him. He then stretched himself on his back among soft moss, and looked up through the branches of the gigantic tree, and saw with delight the sunlight speckling the emerald green leaves and brown bark with touches of silver, and, far up, the deep blue sky with white clouds reposing on it, like snowy islands on a blue ocean; and he watched the squirrels, with their bushy tails, as they ran up the tree, and jumped from branch to branch, and sported among the leaves, until he fell into a sort of pleasant day-dream, and felt so happy, he hardly knew why. As he lay here, he thought he heard, in his half-waking dream, a little squirrel sing a song. Was it not his own heart, now so glad because doing what was right, which was singing? This was the song which he thought he heard:

“I’m a merry, merry squirrel,
All day I leap and whirl,
Through my home in the old beech-tree;
If you chase me, I will run
In the shade and in the sun,
But you never, never can catch me!
For round a bough I’ll creep,
Playing hide-and-seek so sly,
Or through the leaves bo-peep,
With my little shining eye.
Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!

“Up and down I run and frisk,
With my bushy tail to whisk
All who mope in the old beech-trees;
How droll to see the owl,
As I make him wink and scowl,
When his sleepy, sleepy head I tease!
And I waken up the bat,
Who flies off with a scream,
For he thinks that I’m the cat
Pouncing on him in his dream.
Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!

“Through all the summer long
I never want a song,
From my birds in the old beech-trees;
I have singers all the night,
And, with the morning bright,
Come my busy humming fat brown bees.
When I’ve nothing else to do,
With the nursing birds I sit,
And we laugh at the cuckoo
A-cuckooing to her tit!
Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!

“When winter comes with snow,
And its cruel tempests blow
All the leaves from my old beech-trees;
Then beside the wren and mouse
I furnish up a house,
Where like a prince I live at my ease!
What care I for hail or sleet,
With my hairy cap and coat;
And my tail across my feet,
Or wrapp’d about my throat!
Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!”

As Eric opened his eyes, and looked up, he saw a little squirrel with its tail curling up its back, sitting on a branch looking down upon him; and then it playfully ran away with the tail down and waving after it. “Farewell, happy little fellow!” said Eric; “I must do my work now, and play like you afterwards;” for at that moment the thread again became tight, and Eric, refreshed with his rest, and hearty for his journey, stepped out bravely. He saw, at some distance, and beyond an open glade in the forest, a rapid river towards which he was descending. When near the river, he perceived something struggling in the water, and then heard a loud cry or scream for help, as if from one drowning. He was almost tempted to run off to his assistance without his thread, but he felt thankful that the thread itself led in the very direction from whence he heard the cries coming. So off he ran as fast as he could, and as he came to the brink of a deep, dark pool in the river, he saw the head of a boy rising above the water, as the poor little fellow tried to keep himself afloat. Now he sankagain he roseuntil he suddenly disappeared. Eric laid hold of his thread with a firm hand, and leaped in over head and ears, and then rose to the surface, and with his other hand swam to where the boy had sank. He soon caught him, and brought him with great difficulty to the surface, which he never could have done unless the thread had supported them both above the water.

“Eric!” cried the gasping boy, opening his eyes, almost covered by his long, wet hair. “Wolf!” cried Eric, “is it you?” It was indeed poor Wolf, who lay panting on the dry land, with his rough garments dripping with water, and himself hardly able to move. “Oh, tell me, Wolf, what brought you here! I am so glad to have helped you!” After a little time, when Wolf could speak, he told him in his own way, bit by bit, how Ralph had suspected him; and how the old woman had heard him speaking as she was looking out of an upper window; and how when Ralph asked the gold belt he could not give it; and how he was obliged himself to fly; and how he had been running for his life for hours. “Now let us fly,” said Wolf; “I am quite strong again. I fear that they are in pursuit of us.”

They both went on at a quick pace, Eric having shewn Wolf the wonderful thread, and explained to him how he must never part with it, come what may, and having also given him a bit of his cake to comfort him. “O rub-a-dub, dub!” said Wolf, squeezing the water out of his hair, as he trotted along; “I am glad to be away. Ralph would have killed me like a pig. The voice told me to run after you.” So on they went together, happy again to meet. Suddenly Wolf stopped, and listening with anxious face, he said, “Hark! did you hear anything?” “No,” said Eric, “what was it?” “Hush!listen!there againI hear it!” “I think I do hear something far off like a dog’s bark,” replied Eric. “Hark!” So they both stopped and listened, and far away they heard a deep “Bow-wow-wow-wow-o-o-o-o-o” echoing through the forest. “Let us run as fast as we can,” said the boy, in evident fear; “hear him!hear him!” “Bow-wow-wow-o-o-o-o,” and the sound came nearer and nearer. “What is it? why are you so afraid?” inquired Eric. “Oh! that is Ralph’s bloodhound, Tuscar,” cried Wolf, “and he is following us. He won’t perhaps touch me, but you he may.” So Eric ran as fast as he could, but never let go the gold thread, which this time led towards a steep hill, which they were obliged to scramble up. “Run, Eric!quickhideup a treeanywhere!” “I cannot, I dare not,” said Eric; “whatever happens, I must hold fast my thread.” But they heard the “Bow-wow-o-o-o” coming nearer and nearer, and as they looked back they saw the large hound rush out of the wood, and as he came to the water, catching sight of the boys on the opposite hill, he leaped in, and in a few minutes would be near them. And now he came bellowing like a fierce bull up the hill, his tongue hanging out, and his nose tracking along the ground, as he followed their footsteps. “I shall run and meet him,” said Wolf, “and stop him if I can;” and down ran the swineherd, calling, “Tuscar! Tuscar! good dog, Tuscar!” Tuscar knew Wolf, and passed him, but ran up to Eric. As he reached Eric, who stood calm and firm, the bloodhound stopped, panting, smelling his clothes all round, but, strange to say, wagging his huge tail! He then ran back the way he had come, as if he had made a mistake, and all his race was for nothing! How was this? Ah, poor Tuscar remembered the supper Eric had given him, and was grateful for his kindness!

Wolf was astonished at Eric’s escape, until he heard how he and Tuscar had become acquainted; and then Wolf heard the voice in his heart say that there was nothing better than kindness and love shewn to man or beast. They both after this pursued their journey with light and hopeful hearts, for they had got out of what was called the wild robber country, and Eric knew that he was drawing near home. The thread was stronger than ever, and every hour it helped more and more to support him. Wolf trotted along with his short stick, and sometimes snorting and blowing with the fatigue like one of his own pigs. They talked as best they could about all they had seen. “Did you see big Thorold the lion?” asked Wolf. “I did,” said Eric; “he is very awful, but he was chained.” “Lucky for you!” said Wolf, “for Ralph hunts with him and kills travellers. He will obey none but Ralph. I heard him roaring. He is hungry. He once ate one of my pigs, and would have ate me if he had not first caught the poor black porker. I escaped up a tree.” And thus they chatted, as they journeyed on through woods, and across green plains, and over low hills, until Wolf complained of hunger. Eric at once gave him what remained of his large cake; but it did not suffice to appease the hunger of the herd, who was, however, very thankful for what he got. To their delight they now saw a beautiful cottage not far from their path, and, as they approached it, an old woman, with a pretty girl who seemed to be her daughter, came out to meet them. “Good day, young gentlemen!” said the old woman with a kind smile and a courtesy; “you seem to be on your travels, and look wearied? Pray come into my cottage, and I shall refresh you.” “What fortunate fellows we are!” said Wolf. “We are much obliged to you for your hospitality,” replied Eric. But, alas! the thread drew him in an opposite direction; so turning to Wolf, he said, “I cannot go in.” “Come, my handsome young gentleman,” said the young woman, “and we shall make you so happy. You shall have such a dinner as will delight you, I am sure; and you may remain as long as you please, and I will dance and sing to you; nor need you pay anything.” And she came forward smiling and dancing, offering her arm to Eric. “Surely you won’t be so rude as refuse me! you are so beautiful, and have such lovely hair and eyes, and I never saw such a belt as you wear: do come!” “Come, my son,” said the old woman to Wolf, as she put her hand round his neck. “With all my heart!” replied Wolf; “for, to tell the truth, I am wearied and hungry; one does not get such offers as yours every day.” “I cannot go,” again said Eric. They could not see the thread, for to some it was invisible; but he saw it, and felt it like a wire passing away from the cottage. “Who are you, kind friends?” inquired Eric. “Friends of the king and of his family. Honest subjects, good people,” said the old woman. “Do you know Prince Eric?” asked Wolf. “Right well!” replied the young woman. “He is a great friend of mine; a fine, tall, comely youth. He calls me his own little sweetheart.” “It is false!” said Eric; “you do not know him. You should not lie.” But he did not tell her who he was, neither did Wolf, for Eric had made a sign to him to be silent. “I won’t enter your dwelling,” said Eric, “for my duty calls me away.” They both gave a loud laugh, and said, “Hear him! Only hear a fine young fellow talking about duty! Pleasure, ease, and liberty are for the young. We only want to make you happy: come!” “I shall go with you,” said Wolf; “do come, Eric.” “Wolf, speak to me,” whispered Eric to the swineherd. “You know I cannot go, for my duty tells me to follow the thread. But now I see that this is the house of the wicked, for you heard how they lied; they neither know the king nor his children; and they laugh too at duty. Be advised, Wolf, and follow me.” Wolf hesitated, and looked displeased. “Only for an hour, Eric!” “Not a minute. Wolf. If you trust them more than me, go; but I am sure you and I shall never meet again.” “Then I will trust you, Eric,” said Wolf; “the voice in my heart tells me to do so.” And so they both passed on. But the old woman and the girl began to abuse them, and call them all manner of evil names, and to laugh at them as silly fellows. The girl threw stones at them, which made Wolf turn round and flourish his stick over his head. At last they entered the cottage, the old woman shaking her fist, and calling out from the door, “I’ll soon send my friend Ralph after you!” “Oh, ho! is that the way the wind blows!” exclaimed Wolf, with a whistle; and, grasping Eric’s arm, said, “You were right, prince! I never suspected them. I see now they are bad.” “I saw that before,” replied Eric, “and knew that no good would come to us from making their acquaintance.” “Were they not cunning?” “Yes; but, probably, with all their smiles, flattery, and fair promises, they would have proved more cruel in the end than either Ralph or old Thorold.” “What would they have done to us? Why did they meet us? Who are they, think you?” “I don’t know, Wolf; it was enough for me that they lied, and did not wish us to do what was right. The gold thread given me by my father never could have led me into the society and house of the wicked. I am glad we held it fast.”