her eyes and they close. He lays her on a bank of soft moss; he closes
her helmet and covers her with her shield. Near by her horse lies upon
the ground asleep too; the flowers among the grass and in the crevices
of the rocks droop their drowsy heads; the winds as they pass make no
noise. He touches the point of his spear to the ground. Instantly the
fire springs up; it makes a fierce, raging ring around the rock; surely
only one who knows no fear can ever pass it. The Father of the Gods is
gone. Now we can see nothing but the fire streaming up and exulting in
its life and its hot defiance of all but the bravest; but there in the
midst of it lies the Daughter of the God, asleep till her lover shall
call her with a kiss to come with him and be a woman."

The little girl's mother had come into the room and had heard the last
of the story. "Isn't it time," she said, "that the daughter of somebody
else was asleep, too, if she wants to grow to be a woman?"

"It is late," I had to admit. "Well, the Daughter of the God is safe
for the present. Perhaps some other time, when we have a better-behaved
fire, we may see something of the lover."




THE HERO WHO KNEW NO FEAR


"Don't you think the fire is very good to-night?" the little girl
asked.

"Yes, it is certainly very good indeed," I admitted.