Shepherd rescuing the lost sheep. "Strange, very strange," he mused,
as he picked up the eggs and continued his climb. "Can it be possible
that the Lord had anything to do with that eagle coming here just when
I was about all in, and ready to drop from hunger and thirst? I am not
ashamed, anyway, to confess my gratitude, even though I disliked the
idea of praying."

A few minutes later he stood on the top of the hill, a bleak, desolate
spot, rocky, and devoid of the least sign of vegetation. But this
mattered nothing to him now, for his eyes rested almost immediately
upon a silver gleam away to the left. It was water, and a river at
that! An exclamation of joy leaped from his lips, as from that lonely
peak he viewed the river of his salvation. Where it led, he did not
know, but surely along that stream he would find human beings, able and
willing to succor him.

Forgotten now was his weariness, and a new hope possessed his soul. He
could not expect to reach the river that afternoon, for several valleys
and small hills intervened. But he could go part of the way and on the
morrow complete the journey. Carefully guarding his two precious eggs,
he hurried down the opposite side of the hill as fast as it was
possible, and night found him by the side of a small wood-enshrouded
lake. Here he stopped, drank of the cool refreshing water, and built a
small fire. Finding a smooth stone, he washed it clean, and heating it
thoroughly, he was enabled to fry one of the eggs upon the surface. In
the morning the other was treated in a similar manner, and thus
strengthened, but his hunger not appeased, he sped onward.

This last lap of his journey to the river was a trying one. Reynolds
made it more difficult by his feverish impatience, and when about the