red at once, there would be trouble for some
one. But this was not the first bear-cub that Roxie had seen, and her
temper was up as well as the bear's. So, firmly grasping the pail, she
began to retreat backward, at first slowly, but as the bear dropped on
his feet and seemed inclined to follow her, or rather the pail of
berries, she lost courage, and turning, began to run, not caring or
noting in what direction, and still mechanically grasping the pail of
berries.

Suddenly, through the close crowding pines which had so nearly shut out
the daylight, appeared an open space, and Roxie hailed it with delight,
for it was the river, and once across the river she felt as if she
would be safe. Even in the brief glance she threw around as she burst
from the edge of the wood, she saw that here was neither the bridge nor
the ford which she had crossed in the morning; a point altogether
strange and new to her, and, as she judged, further down the river,
since the space from shore to shore was considerably wider. But the
bear was close behind, and neither time nor courage for deliberation
was at hand, and Roxie, after her moment's pause, sprung forward upon
the snowy ice, closely followed by the clumsy little beast.

At that very moment, a mile further up stream, Mr. Beamish and his son
Jake were cautiously driving Rob across the frozen ford, and the old
man was saying:

"I'm afraid we'll have to go round by the bridge after this, Jake. I
shouldn't wonder if the river broke up this very night. See that
crack."

[Illustration: THE RESCUE.]

"It wouldn't do for Roxie to come over here alone again," said Jake,
probing the ice-crack with his stick.

And Roxie,--poor little Roxie,--whom Jake was so glad to think of as
safe at home, was at that very moment stepping over a wide crack
between two great masses of ice, and staring forlornly about her, for a
little way in advance appeared another great gap, and the bear close
behind was whimpering with terror as he clung to the edge of the
floating mass upon which Roxie had only just leaped, and which he had
failed to jump upon. Shaking with cold and fright, the little girl
staggered forward across the ice until at its further edge she came
upon a narrow, swiftly rolling tide, increasing in width at every
moment--the current of the river suddenly set free from its winter's
bondage, and rapidly dashing away its chains.

Roxie turned back, but the crack that she had stepped over was a