“Oh! That is Paul! That is Paul!” cried Anna, jumping up and down with joy; and the next moment a canoe swung round the curve, paddled by a tall boy with a cap ornamented by tall feathers.
Paul nearly dropped his paddle as he saw Anna at the river’s edge.
“However did you get here?” he exclaimed, as with a swift stroke of his paddle he sent his canoe to shore.
Anna told him quickly of the capture of Trit, the leaking boat, and her jump to safety, while Paul listened with astonished eyes, and, in his turn, told of the discovery of the honey-tree, and then of the search for Anna.
“Your father and Rebby are sadly frightened,” he concluded; “they are well on the way home now, thinking possibly you might have followed the path. Now, get in the canoe, and I’ll try my best to get you home by the time they reach the settlement.”
Anna sat in the bottom of the canoe, and Paul skilfully wielded the paddle, sending the little craft swiftly down the river.
“That bucket is full of honey,” he said, nodding toward the bow of the canoe. But Anna was not greatly interested in the honey; she had even forgotten that she was hungry and thirsty. She could think only of her father and Rebby searching along the path for some trace of her.
It was late in the afternoon when the canoe swept across the river to the same landing where Paul had fastened the liberty tree earlier in the month. And in a few moments Anna was running up the path toward home, followed by Paul with the bucket of honey.
“Why, child! Where are Father and Rebby? and where is your cap?” questioned Mrs. Weston.
“Oh, Mother!” began Anna, but now the tears could not be kept back, and held close in her mother’s arms she sobbed out the story of the capture of Trit, and all that had followed. And then Paul told the story of the honey-tree, and his story was not finished when Anna exclaimed: “Father! Rebby!” and ran toward the door.