Your voice tells me that you are a stranger--but maybe you have your men waiting for you at hand?
There will be room for them also." For there was that in the tones of the voice of this man which told my father that here he had no common wanderer.
"I am alone," my friend said.

"But your men seek the little one even yet in the forest.

Will you not call them in ?" My father looked at the man for a moment, and smiled.
"Ay, I forgot in my joy.

They are well-nigh as anxious as I have been." Then he took down the great horn that hung by the door, and wound the homing call that brings all within its hearing back to the hall, and its hoarse echoes went across the silent woods until it was answered by the other horns that passed on the message until the last sounds came but faintly to us.

I heard men cheering also, for they knew by the token that all was well.