e had never seen it so gloomy. There was a strange
sadness in the rustle of the leaves, and a sadness in the noise of the
streams. He did not hear the birds sing as they used to do. But he heard
the ravens croak with their hoarse voice, as their black forms swept
along the precipices which here and there rose above the trees. The
large hawks, too, always appeared to be wheeling over his head,
pausing, and fluttering as if about to dart down upon him. Why was he so
sad? Why was he so afraid?

But on Eric journeyed, in the hope of finding his way out of the
boundless forest, or of meeting some one who would be his guide. At
last, the sun appeared to be near its setting, and he could see the high
branches of the trees, shining like gold, as its last rays fell upon
them. But underneath, the foliage was getting darker and darker; the
birds were preparing to sleep, and everything soon became so still that
he could hear his steps echoing through the wood, and when he stopped,
he heard his heart beating, or a leaf falling; but nowhere did he see a
house, and no human being had he met since morning. Then the wind
suddenly began to rise, and he heard it at first creeping along the
tree-tops like a gentle whisper, and by and by to call louder and louder
for the storm to come. Dark clouds gathered over the sky, and rushed
along chased by the winds, that were soon to fight with the giant trees.

At last, he sat down at the root of a great old oak, burying his face
in his hands, not knowing what to do. He then tried to climb the tree,
in order to spend the night among its branches, in case wild beasts
should attack him. But as he was climbing it, he heard some one singing
with a loud voice. Listening attentively, and looking eagerly through
the leaves, he saw a boy apparently older than himself, dressed in rough
shaggy clothes, made from skins of wild animals. His long matted hair
escaped over his cheeks from under a black bearskin cap. With a short
thick stick he was driving a herd of swine through the wood. "Hey there,
you black porker!" cried the boy, as he threw a stone at some pig which
was running away. "Get along, you lazy long-snout!" he shouted to
another, as he came thump on its back with his cudgel. And then he sung
this song with a loud voice which made the woods ring:--

"Oh, there's nothing half so fine,
As to drive a herd of swine,
And through the forest toddle,
With nothing in my noddle,