come. And the mother Deer, who was on her way thither, heard his
voice. She came running in a fright, but she could do nothing to protect
him, being a gentle, weaponless creature. However, she followed
anxiously to see what would happen to her darling. So they went down the
rocks, Keneth and the Shepherd, with the Deer close behind. And all the
way Keneth shrieked loudly, "E-e-e-e!"

Now at last a messenger breeze carried the baby voice out over the water
of the Bristol Channel where the gulls were fishing.

"What is that?" they said, stopping their work to listen. "Is it not our
little land-fish calling us in Gull? He is in trouble or danger.
Brothers, to the rescue! Cre-e-e-e!"

So the flock of gulls left their fishing and swooped back to the rock
where they had left the baby. Dreadful! The nest was empty. They flapped
their wide wings and screamed with fear, "What shall we do?"

But just then up the rocky hill came panting the mother Deer. Her glossy
hide was warm and wet, and her tongue lolled out with weariness, she had
run so fast.

"He is down there," she panted. "The Shepherd has carried him to his hut
and laid him in a nest such as human-folk make. The Shepherd's wife
loves him and would keep him there, but he is unhappy and cries for us.
You must bring him back."

"We will, we will!" screamed the gulls in chorus. "Guide us to the
place, mother Deer." And without another word they rose on their great,
strong wings, and followed where she led. Back down the hill she took
the path, over the moor and up the lane to a little white cottage under
the rosebushes. "Here is the place," said the Deer, and she paused.

But the flock of gulls with a great whirring and rustling and screaming
swooped in at the little low door, straight up to the cradle where
Keneth lay crying "E-e-e-e!" as if his heart would break.

The Shepherd's wife was sitting by the cradle saying, "Hush!" and
"Bye-lo!" and other silly things that Keneth did not understand. But
when she heard the rushing of the gulls' wings, she gave a scream and
started for the door.

"Cree-e-e!" cried the gulls fiercely. "Give us our little one." And they
perched on the edge of the cradle and looked tenderly at Keneth. Then
he stopped his crying and began to laugh, for these were the voices he
knew and loved. And in another minute the gulls had fastened their beaks
and claws into the purple cloth, and once more bore him away as they had
done when they saved