that it moved. His eye was deceived by the
dancing motion of the water. While he looked and looked, some great
black bird came out from the midst of it, uttering a harsh, croaking
sound.

The little boy could bear no more. He turned away from the terrible bush
and the terrible bird, and ran down the valley, leaving hut and all
behind. And, as he ran, he cried, as he always did when hurt or
frightened, "Papa, mamma! oh, come! oh, come to Edwy!"

He ran and ran while his little bare feet were bruised with pebbles, and
his legs torn with briers. Very soon he came to where the valley became
narrower and the rocks and banks higher on either side. The brook ran
along between, and a path went in a line with the brook; but this path
was only used by the gypsies and a few poor cottagers, and was but a
lonely road.

As Edwy ran he still cried, "Mamma, mamma, papa, papa! oh, come! oh,
come to Edwy!" And he kept up this cry from time to time, till his young
voice began to be returned in a sort of hollow murmur.

When first he noticed this, he was even more frightened than before. He
stood and looked round. Then he turned with his back toward the hut and
ran and ran again until he got deeper in among the rocks. Then he
stopped again, for the high black banks frightened him still more, and
setting up his young voice he called again as he had done before.

He had scarcely finished his cry, when a voice seemed to answer him. It
said, "Come, come to Edwy!" It said it once, it said it twice, it said
it a third time. But it seemed each time more distant.

The child looked up and down, and all around, and in his terror he cried
more loudly, "Oh, papa, mamma! come, come to poor Edwy!"

It was an echo, the echo of the rocks which repeated the words of the
child. The more loudly he spoke, the more perfect was the echo. But he
could only catch the last few words, and this time he only heard, "Poor,
poor Edwy!"

Edwy still dimly remembered a far-away happy home, and kind parents,
and now he believed that what the echo said came from them. They were
calling to him, and saying, "Poor, poor Edwy!" But where could they be?
Were they in the caves, or at the top of the rocks, or in the blue
bright heavens?

He looked at the rocks and the sky, and down among the reeds and sedges
and alders by the side of the brook, but he could find no one.

After a while he called again, and called louder still.

"Come, come," was the cry again, "Edwy i