168 THE LAND OF PLUCK

All that long, terrible day, and the next, they searched.

 

They followed the stream, and at last found the canoe
but it was empty! In vain the father and mother and
their only neighbor wandered through the forest in every
direction, calling: “ Winnie! Winnie! Nat! Nat!” In
vain the father and the neighbor took their boats and
explored the stream for miles and miles —no trace could
be found of the poor little creatures who, full of life and
joy, had so lately jumped into their father’s canoe to “be
bounced about.”

Where were they? Alas! they themselves did not
know. They only knew that they had been wakened sud-
denly by a great thump, and that when they sprang out
of the canoe, and started to go home, everything was dif-
ferent. There was no foot-path, no clearing where trees had
been cut down, no sound of Father’s ax near by, nor of
Mother’s song

 

and the stream was rushing on very an-
erily over its sandy bed. The canoe, which had broken
loose and, borne on by the current, had drifted away with
them nearly three miles from the stake, was wedged be-
tween two great stones when they jumped out of it; but
now it was gone

 

the waters had taken it away. After a
while, in their distracted wanderings, they could not even
find the stream, though it seemed to be roaring in every
.direction around them.

Now they were in the depths of the forest, wandering
about, tired, hunery and frightened. That night they cried
themselves to sleep in each other’s arms under the black
trees; and, as the wind moaned through the branches,
Winnie had prayed God to save them from the wolves,