and drink a portion, for he
was nearly dead of hunger and thirst.

He had been sitting there only a few minutes when he heard a strange
noise overhead, and looking up he saw a large hawk pursuing a beautiful
brown dove. The dove flew this way and that, squeaking piteously, and
at last fluttered to the ground at Daimur's feet, while the hawk
swooped down to seize it; but Daimur jumped to his feet, and waving his
arms beat it off and it flew away in fright.

When it was gone Daimur turned to look at the brown dove, which was
lying quite still on the grass with its eyes closed.

"Poor thing," thought he, "I wonder if water would revive it," and he
poured out a little in his hand and dropped some of it into the bird's
beak.

In a few seconds the dove opened its eyes, and to Daimur's surprise
spoke.

"Thank you, brave young man," it said. "You have saved my life, and I
cannot tell you how grateful I am. The reason I am so weak is that I
am nearly dead of hunger and thirst."

"Unfortunate creature," exclaimed Daimur, as he gave it a few drops
more of the water, "I have some biscuits which you shall share," and so
saying he proceeded to crumble one of the biscuits, which the dove
seemed to hesitate to take.

"Unhappy young man," it said in a sorrowful voice, "I cannot take your
last morsel, for this is the last pure food and fresh water you will
ever get while you stay on this island."

"That may be quite true," replied Daimur, "but I cannot eat any of it
while I feel that another creature is more in need of it than I," and
after some pressing the dove hungrily ate up the biscuit.

When he had finished he was apparently much stronger, and hopped upon
Daimur's knee.

"Look at me," he said, "and tell me what I am."

"You are a very beautiful brown dove with a golden crest," said Daimur.

"I am more than that," said the dove with a sigh; "I am Cyril, King of
the Island of Shells, one of those which surround this Island of
Despair, and you, I am sure, are a Prince or a King also, who has been
put here to be out of the way."

"Yes," answered Daimur, "I am Prince Daimur of the Island of Sunne, and
my wicked uncle has sent me here to starve, so that he may be made King
in my stead."

"I thought it was something like that," said the dove.

"But that is not the worst of it," he went on. "You are wondering how
I came to take the form of a dove. As you can see for yourself, I am
enchanted. I was brought here wi