Dreamer of Dreams

<h2>XIII</h2> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i12">And a strange song I have heard<br/></span> <span class="i13">By a shadowy stream,<br/></span> <span class="i12">And the singing of a snow-white bird<br/></span> <span class="i13">On the Hills of Dream.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i22"><span class="smcap">Fiona Macleod.</span><br/></span></div> </div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <p>The white wings of the bird could be seen far overhead. Eric looked up and understood that at whatever cost he must scale those heights towards which it flew. Such had been the decree of the kind old philosopher.</p> <p>Firm was his resolution to obey him in everything, because never before had human being spoken thus unto him.</p> <p>Only one fact his mind refused to grasp: how could such a man be a sinner? He thought of the gentle, venerable face, of his wise and beautiful sayings; and dear to his memory was the sound of his voice. His feelings towards the silent ghosts, that still followed him, were quite changed, for the words of the master were ever in his mind.</p> <p>He felt now a kindly interest in their welfare, and hoped that strength would be given him to lead them to peace. The clouds lay no longer so dense over his road. He could advance with greater rapidity.</p> <p>Always steeper grew the way, and always higher flew the bird; often its white plumes were lost amongst the floating mist.</p> <p>Eric was full of courage and hope; whilst he walked he kept thinking of all he had heard. Tears came to his eyes at the remembrance of the silvery head lying so close to the cold hard marble which made no response, the face in its immaculate fairness so serenely unconscious of all the feeling its beauty called forth.</p> <p>Within the stern silence of that pale stone lay a punishment far greater than human justice could inflict.</p> <p>Night was coming on, but Eric still advanced with undaunted step, ignoring the fatigue that was again making itself felt through all his supple limbs.</p> <p>The sword at his side gave him a companionable feeling; his eyes rested upon it with pride, admiring the beautiful hilt that was carved out of a single piece of crystal in the form of a cross. In the centre had been set a large emerald the colour of a deep forest pool, transparent and dark, evoking a feeling of rest amongst glorious solitudes where the foot of man but seldom passes.</p> <p>The blade was as bright as silver, and flashed like a searchlight when Eric drew it from its sheath. He did so more than once, feeling its edge, with the joy of a child over a new toy.</p> <p>Never had he possessed so manly an arm, and his pleasure knew no bounds.</p> <p>Always darker grew the night, more perilous the path. Our valiant wanderer was now obliged to feel the way with his hands, and began to think about where he could lay himself down to rest. It was useless to press onward without seeing where he was going&mdash;useless to risk making a false step that might perhaps cost him his life by hurling him into the chasm that yawned at his side.</p> <p>His only fear was to lose sight of his feathered companion; it would be almost impossible to find it again in this desert of rocks. He stood still to think what he had better do, when out of the darkness, quite close before him, he saw the flash of white wings.</p> <p>He sprang forward in pursuit, regardless of the danger that gaped around him; and after a moment he found himself on a broad ledge under the protection of a jutting rock. There, just discernible, in the dense obscurity sat the white falcon, motionless, at rest, giving the sign that here they should make a halt.</p> <p>The great bird turned its head towards the youth, and as it did so something resembling a tiny light gleamed on its breast.</p> <p>Eric approached it cautiously for fear of frightening it away, but the beautiful creature showed no signs of alarm, and let him lay his hand on its head.</p> <p>Then Eric saw that around the strange bird's neck a tiny chain was clasped, from which hung a diamond of prodigious size; it radiated a strong bluish light much like that of a shimmering star. Here in this vast wilderness of unknown perils the little light shone brightly like unto a kindly eye that had been placed there to watch over him during the night.</p> <p>With a sensation of comfort Eric laid himself down close to the quiet guardian, wrapping himself up warmly in the folds of his cloak, for the night was cold.</p> <p>Indeed the rocks made but a hard and unfriendly bed, but Eric was young, and weary was his body, so it was not long before sleep came down and carried him off into the land of dreams.</p> <p>Upon the rock near his head sat the motionless, wakeful bird of prey, staring with unblinking eyes into the dark. The whiteness of its feathers was faintly visible, and the blue diamond burned steadily like the lamp of a lighthouse seen from far over the sea.</p> <p>Now there was a faint movement about the sleeping boy and that silent watcher of the Hills.</p> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="illus3" id="illus3"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/></div> <h3><i>A circle of mist seemed to be settling around them.</i></h3> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <p>A circle of mist seemed to be settling around them, like a giant wreath of grey poppies; but it was not the vapours of the night that were forming a ring round the man and the bird&mdash;it was the bodiless army of following ghosts; and there they sat a quiet company, forms out of another world, awaiting in mournful silence that this frail human being should arise to lead them over perilous ways to the height that would be their salvation.</p> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />