ess or accident, for many had found the Hermit a help
at such a time. They were, for the most part, busy farmers wresting a
home from the wilderness, a task which left them little idle time.

One summer evening, as the fiery ball of the sun was sinking out of
sight behind the forest wall, leaving the world bathed in the hush of
twilight, the Hermit heard a scratching upon his doorstep. Looking up
from the fire over which he was cooking his supper, he saw in the open
doorway a small black and white dog, its forefeet upon the sill, its
great brown eyes fixed in mute appeal upon the face of the man. A moment
they looked into each other's eyes; then, without a word, the Hermit
held out his hand.

It was a simple gesture, yet it heralded a change in the lives of both.
Into the eyes of the homeless dog sprang a glad light, followed by such
a look of adoration that the man experienced a warm glow of pleasure.
Out of their loneliness each had found a friend.

From that day the two were never far apart. When the Hermit went into
the forest for his harvesting, Pal, as the wanderer had been named,
accompanied him, his proud protector. While the man worked, Pal often
ranged the near-by woods, his sensitive nose eagerly seeking out the
latest news of the wild; yet he was never out of sound of the Hermit's
call. To the dog, as to the man, the woods were a never-ending source of
interest, and he seldom offered to molest the wild creatures unless they
seemed unfriendly toward his master. Pal would have attacked the biggest
beast of the wilderness unhesitatingly in defense of the one who had
befriended him.

In going about his work the Hermit, as a rule, saw few of the forest
inhabitants, but from tree or thicket bright eyes were sure to be
following his every movement with keen interest. Fear, when once
instilled into the wild creatures, is not easily banished, but little by
little they came to regard this quiet man as a friend.

An instance of their trust was shown one day when, as the Hermit worked
in his herb garden at the rear of the cabin, a rabbit slipped through
the fence. With great bounds the little animal crossed the garden toward
him, its ears lying along its back and its gentle eyes wide with terror.
The Hermit glanced up in surprise; then his face set and he raised his
hoe threateningly. Close behind the fleeing bunny came a weasel, its
savage red eyes seeing nothing but its expected prey. In another bound
the rabbit