long in the
canoe," replied Dorothy. "I thought at the time it was against the
law. Can you walk, Ned? I do wish you would go back."

"Seems to me we ought to separate," interposed Ralph. "We can never
make any headway by searching all together."

"Well, I will not leave Dorothy," declared Cologne, stoutly. "I left
her once----"

"No, I left _you_ once," corrected Dorothy, in her own way of always
taking the blame. "I think, however, Ralph is right. Suppose the boys
keep along the water, and Cologne and I go farther in."

"Then I go with you," said Ralph gallantly. "It is not altogether safe
in the deep woods. There might be lunatics----"

"Or muskrat traps," groaned Ned, who walked with difficulty.

At this they separated.

For some time they heard nothing more than their own voices calling
back and forth.

"Isn't it awful?" sighed Cologne. "Dorothy, I think it is utterly
useless. I am afraid she is--dead."

"I know she is not," declared Dorothy, "and I am not going to give up
until I have searched every inch of this wood. Now I am going to
shout!"

"Tavia! Tavia!" she yelled, and her clear voice struck an echo
against the hills. "Tavia! Tavia!" she called again.

"Hark!" said Cologne. "Didn't I hear----"

"I heard something!" declared Dorothy, and the sound came from back of
the hill. "Boys! Boys!" she shouted, but they were now too far away to
answer promptly. "Don't try to follow, Cologne. I feel that I can run
like the wind. I heard Tavia's voice, and I heard it--right--over--there!"

As she flew through the woods Cologne, in distress, tried to summon
the boys. She feared Dorothy would fall again, over some rock or
cliff. But there was no use trying to stop her. She had heard Tavia's
voice, and that was enough.

CHAPTER XXVII

ONE KIND OF CAMP

"Oh, Tavia! Where are you?"

It was Dorothy who jumped from rock to stone, and over bush and
bramble, through that deep dark wood, which now, in the shadow of
sunset, threatened again to bring anguish to our young friends. "I
heard you," she called. "Answer again!"

But this time there was no response.

"Oh, what can have happened?" wailed Dorothy. "Surely she is--not too
ill--when she called and whistled just now."

She was talking, but no one was at hand to hear her.

Cologne was doing her best to reach Dorothy, but she had made a turn
to notify the boys, and was really too surprised, and frightened, to
make anything like the progress t