splendid old figure in his dress of
soft furry skins, but with a certain helplessness about him that brought
Norah's heart into her mouth. As the flap of the tent lifted he turned
his head with difficulty, and looked at the little girl with weary,
burning eyes that held no light of recognition. His face was ghastly
white beneath the sunburnt skin, which was drawn like parchment over the
cheekbones. A low moan came from his dry lips.

"Water!"

Norah cast a despairing glance around. An empty billy by the old man
told its own tale, and a hurried search in the camp only revealed empty
vessels.

"I'll be back in a minute," said Norah, sobbing.

Afterwards she could not remember how she had got down to the creek. Her
blouse was torn, and there were long scratches on her wrists, and she
was panting, as she came back to the sick man, and, struggling to raise
his heavy head, held a cup to his lips. He drank fiercely, desperately,
as Norah had seen starving cattle drink when released after a long
journey in the trucks. Again and again he drank--until Norah grew afraid
and begged him to lie down. He obeyed her meekly and smiled a little,
but there was no comprehension in the fevered eyes. She put her hand on
his forehead and started at its burning heat.

"Oh, what'll I do with you!" she said in her perplexity.

"Do?" said the Hermit with startling suddenness. "But I'm dead!" He
closed his eyes and lay very still. "Dead--ages ago!" He muttered. A
second he lay so, and then he turned and looked at her. "Where's the
child?" he asked. "I must go to him; let me go, I tell you!" He tried to
rise, but fell back weakly. "Water!" he begged.

She gave him water again, and then bathed his face and hands, using her
handkerchief for a sponge. He grew quieter, and once or twice Norah
thought he seemed to know her; but at the end he closed his eyes and lay
motionless.

"I'll be back very soon," she said. "Do please be still, dear Mr.
Hermit!" She bent over him and kissed his forehead, and he stirred and
murmured a name she could not catch. Then he relapsed into
unconsciousness, and Norah turned and ran wildly into the scrub.

To bring Daddy--Daddy, who knew everything, who always understood! There
was no other thought in her mind now. Whatever the Hermit might have
done, he needed help now most sorely--and Daddy was the only one who
could give it. Only the way seemed long as she raced through the trees,
seeing always that haggard, pa