Two Little Women Part 36

But Dolly noticed a difference in Dotty's att.i.tude. She walked as quickly as before but she was not quite so alert. Also, she kept turning her head suddenly from side to side with a gesture of an inquisitive bird, a little uncertain which way to fly.

"You do know the way, don't you, Dotty?"

"'Course I do, Doll, don't be silly."

"How do you know it?"

"Just by instinct. I've been around these woods so much, I just kind of know the way home, even if I can't see out. Don't you see this kind of a trail? We just follow this and it brings us out right by our own camp."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! What's the matter with you, Dolly?"

"Nothing; only it seems as if we'd walked as far since we've started for home as we did when we were going."

"So we have, nearly. Just a little farther now and we come into that clump of beech woods, don't you know? Where there aren't any birch trees, hardly."

"Yes, I know where you mean; but this doesn't look like it."

"'Cause we haven't got there yet, that's why. You wouldn't think birch bark would be so heavy; would you?"

"I don't mind it. Here give me one of your bundles; I'd just as lieve carry it as not. Give me the one out of your left wing. I know that one must be tired."

"'Deed I won't. You've got enough to carry. I'll throw my left hand bundle away before I let you lug it."

"Oh, don't throw it away! It's a shame, after we've taken such trouble to gather it. Do let me carry it, Dotty."

"No, sir, I won't do it! I don't mind it, anyway. Come on, Doll, let's hurry a little. Don't you think it's getting sort of dark?"

"Not dark, exactly, but dusky here under the trees."

"It isn't dusk, Dolly, it's dark! I mean, it's after sunset, and the real dark will settle down on us in a few minutes. I know more about these woods than you do, and I know we want to get along faster. We mustn't be in here when it gets really dark."

"But you said you knew the way, Dot," and Dolly's tone was anxious.

"I do, most always, but if we'd been on the right track we ought to have been out of the woods before this. I must have got turned around somehow."

Dotty stopped still and turned a despairing face toward Dolly.

"Good gracious, Dot, you don't mean we're lost!"

"I hope not that, but honest, I don't know which way to go."

"Why not go straight on?"

"I'm not sure, but I think that leads us deeper into the woods."

"Why, Dorothy Rose! You _said_ that was the way home!"

"I know I did, and I thought it was; but don't you see, Dolly, if it _had_ been the right way, we would be home by now?"

"Oh, Dotty, what are we going to do?"

Dolly's face took on a woe-begone expression, and her big blue eyes stared at the white face of her friend. "I'm frightened, Dolly, I-- I never was lost in the woods before."

"Nor I, either. I've often heard of people being lost in these woods, when they were really quite near their homes. One man was lost for three days before they found him."

"Oh, don't say such dreadful things! It's getting awful dark, and I'm cold, and--and I'm scared!"

"I'm all those things, too! oh, Dolly, I'm awfully frightened!" and Dotty dropped her bundles of birch bark and sitting down on a stone began to cry hysterically.

Now Dolly Fayre was the sort to rise to an emergency, where Dotty Rose would lose her head completely. So Dolly, though terribly frightened, controlled herself, and sitting down, put her arm around Dotty and tried to cheer her.

"Brace up, Dot, it can't do a bit of good to cry you know. Now you know more about this sort of thing than I do, what do people do when they're lost in the woods?"

"Hol--holler," said Dotty, weakly, between her sobs, "holler like fury, and m-maybe somebody hears them and maybe they d-don't."

"All right, let's holler," and Dolly gave a yell, that sounded about as loud and carrying as the pipe or a bulfinch.

"Who do you s'pose'll hear that?" and Dotty almost smiled through her tears; "this is the way to holler." Dotty gave a loud scream, a long halloo, tapping her fingers against her mouth as she did so, making a peculiar mountain cry, known to campers.

"All right, I'll do that, too," and Dolly set up a rival yell.

But though both girls did their best, their screams were not very loud and they were followed by a silence, so intense, that they shivered and clung together in fear. The dark had fallen suddenly, and though only about seven o'clock, in the thick woods, they could scarcely see each other's faces.

Appalled by the awfulness of the situation, Dolly burst into tears, and though not as violent as Dotty's, her sobs were deep and racking ones.

"Oh, don't, Dollyrinda, _don't_ cry so! I'll never forgive myself for losing you in these awful woods!"

"You didn't lose me, any more than I lost you. We both lost each other; I mean-- I guess I mean we're both lost!" and Dolly's tears fell afresh.

Then both girls gave way and cried desperately, till they could cry no more, and with their stayed tears, they seemed to take a brighter outlook.

"If we're lost," said Dolly, philosophically; "we must make the best of it. Are there any wild animals, that would eat us up?"

"No, nothing of that sort. Nothing but squirrels and birds, and they can't hurt us."

"Then there's nothing really to be afraid of--"

"No, I s'pose not. Only starving to death, and catching pneumonia and a few little things like that."

"We won't starve right off, that's certain," said Dolly, practically; "at least I won't, I'm so fat. But you poor little picked chicken, you may!" And Dolly patted the thin little shivering shoulders that snuggled up against her.

"I'm hungry now; I wish we'd saved the cookies."

"You can't be hungry, Dot, not _really_ hungry. Now, let's plan what to do. Shall we walk on and take our chances or shall we camp here for the night. It isn't so very different being here under the trees or under our own trees in camp."

"'Tisn't very different, hey? Well I think there's all the difference in the world! What are you going to sleep on? What are you going to cover yourself with? Oh, you know we couldn't sleep anyway, when we're lost!"