Go build me a boat
All lightly to float,
And away o’er the waters so free
We’ll row, we’ll row, we’ll cheerily row!’
“Yes, little Rosebud, a boat! Are there no boats upon the shore?”
“Many boats,” said Rosebud. “O, very many boats!”
“All will then be well,” said Bertha. “My father taught me to row, and to ride, and to hunt, and to aim the bow. We shall reach our native home, for with gold can be bought a trusty guide. All will go well. And now, sweet Rosebud, farewell. Be cautious, but at the same time be brave. Tell no one what has happened to-day. Adieu!”
Rosebud promised most faithfully, then bade adieu to Bertha, and ran hastily along the first path which offered; but soon found herself again bewildered among thickets of tangled vines and thorny bushes, through which no way seemed to open.
Still it was a pleasant spot. Flowering shrubs were growing there, and berries in plenty. A little brook fell over some rocks near by, and Rosebud stooped to drink of its waters. Squirrels ran nimbly up the trees, peeping out with their bright eyes from among the leaves. While watching these, as they hopped so nimbly from bough to bough, she perceived, sitting upon the lower branch of a tree, a fine-feathered bird, seemingly so tame that she stepped nearer to examine its bright wings. But on her approach it flew slowly to the next tree; and then, as Rosebud followed, it again flew, and alighted on a tall bush, a little farther on.
