One morning on waking he found her still asleep, although the traces of tears on her cheeks showed that she had been awake and crying during the night.

“Ah, now I know why she cries every morning,” thought Martin; “it is because I must go away and leave her here alone on the hills.”

He was out of her arms and dressed in a very few moments, moving very softly lest she should wake; but though he knew that if she awoke she would not let him go, he could not leave her without saying goodbye.  And so coming near he stooped over her and very gently kissed her soft cheek and sweet mouth and murmured, “Good-bye, sweet mother.”  Then, very cautiously, like a shy, little wild animal he stole out of the cavern.  Once outside, in the early morning light, he started running as fast as he could, jumping from stone to stone in the rough places, and scrambling through the dew-laden bushes and creepers, until, hot and panting, he arrived down at the very foot of the hill.

Then it was easier walking, and he went on a little until he heard a voice crying, “Martin!  Martin!” and, looking back, he saw the Lady of the Hills standing on a great stone near the foot of the mountain, gazing sadly after him.  “Martin, oh, my child, come back to me,” she called, stretching out her arms towards him.  “Oh, Martin, I cannot leave the hills to follow you and shield you from harm and save you from death, Where will you go?  Oh me, what shall I do without you?”

For a little while he stood still, listening with tears in his eyes to her words, and wavering in his mind; but very soon he thought of the great blue water once more and could not go back, but began to run again, and went on and on for a long distance before stopping to rest.  Then he looked back, but he could no longer see her form standing there on the stone.

All that day he journeyed on towards the ocean over a great plain.  There was no trees and no rocks nor hills, only grass on the level earth, in some places so tall that the spikes, looking like great white ostrich plumes, waved high above his head.  But it was easy walking, as the grass grew in tussocks or bunches, and underneath the ground was bare and smooth so that he could walk easily between the bunches.

He wondered that he did not get to the sea, but it was still far off, and so the long summer day wore to an end, and he was so tired that he could scarcely lift his legs to walk.  Then, as he went slowly on in the fading light, where the grass was short and the evening primroses were opening and filling the desert air with their sweet perfume, he all at once saw a little grey old man not above six inches in height standing on the ground right before him, and staring fixedly at him with great, round, yellow eyes.

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“You bad boy!” exclaimed this curious, little, old man; whereupon Martin stopped in his walk and stood still, gazing in the greatest surprise at him.