“I sawed her fall in!” cried Zaidee.
The questioning men and the half-crazed mother stopped at the child’s words, and gathered around the little ones. They grew frightened and incoherent at the storm of questions that assailed them.
Evidently a tragedy had taken place under the children’s very eyes. They had seen little Elspeth, when they were way up the bank, they said, chasing yellow butterflies. She had run towards the brook, through the tall grass, and she must have plunged straight into the water. This was the main stream of the Kayuna, and the current ran swift and deep there.
The children saw her, and ran to the spot, but they never thought of giving the alarm, for they had no idea what drowning really is. As they said, “the baby kicked in the water, and then it sailed up to the top.” Their chief idea was that they must not poke it with a stick.
They had watched the little creature “sailing” down the brook, and had run along the bank beside it.
“Zere it is,” Sylvie suddenly broke off, pointing to the curve above.
“It’s under the bushes,” Zaidee said, beginning to cry with nervousness and fright. The excited group around, all talking and asking questions at once, the frantic mother catching first at one child and then at another, Mary Ann crying and groaning in true Irish fashion, completely bewildered the little ones, who had not the faintest idea of the importance of what they had seen.
As Zaidee pointed, one of the men sprang into the water, knee deep.
“I see it!” he cried, and pressed forward through the water.
The poor mother was plunging after him when the other man forcibly held her back.