iful brown dove with a golden crest," said Daimur.
"I am more than that," said the dove with a sigh; "I am Cyril, King of the Island of Shells, one of those which surround this Island of Despair, and you, I am sure, are a Prince or a King also, who has been put here to be out of the way."
"Yes," answered Daimur, "I am Prince Daimur of the Island of Sunne, and my wicked uncle has sent me here to starve, so that he may be made King in my stead."
"I thought it was something like that," said the dove.
"But that is not the worst of it," he went on. "You are wondering how I came to take the form of a dove. As you can see for yourself, I am enchanted. I was brought here with my wife the Queen and one little daughter, the Princess Maya, who is now seventeen years old. We too were given a bag of food and some water, but naturally I began to search for other food to eat when that was gone.
"I found that all the trees upon this island were fruit trees of different kinds and bore the mo