"Ala - ate, see! Are they not good?" she asked triumphantly.

And so from day to day she ministered to him. Many a time as he sat,
listless and moody, within his hiding-place, a handful of wild
strawberries, steeped in the warm sweetness of the hills, would be
pushed beneath the leafy branches that concealed the door. Sometimes she
brought him bread baked from a curious kind of meal made of pounded
seeds.

Once, too, when a sudden storm had chilled the air, she kindled a fire
for him within a smaller cave, receding like a fire-place into the rocky
wall opposite the opening. It was a long and tedious process which the
man watched curiously. First, kneeling on the ground, she rubbed
together two dry willow sticks until a little pile of dust had gathered.
Then, still stooping, she struck two flints together until at last a
spark fell into the dust. Some dry leaves were dropped upon the tiny
blaze, then twigs, and lo, a fire!

In spite of himself the Englishman smiled, though a softer feeling shown
in his eyes. How beautiful and yet how childish she looked kneeling
there with the anxious pucker between her brows. Poor little princess,
how very hard she worked to serve him!

"It takes a long time, Wildenai," he observed, "dost thou try it often?"

"Never for myself," she answered gravely. "I have no need. But I do it
gladly for you." She smiled brightly back at him, then rose and moved
swiftly to the doorway. "Another thing I do for you today. Wait!"

And when she returned a few minutes later she brought with her,