“They’re here—all safe.”
“And Pink Nose, and Brindley the Lame?”
“All here!”
“Then everything’s all right,” sighed Bumper. “I was afraid some of them might get caught.” Then recalling the distress of the birds, he asked about Hermit the Thrush and Mrs. Oven-Bird and Black Cap the Chickadee. Fuzzy Wuzz laughed and pointed to the other side.
“They’re on the other side of the river,” she said. “They flew across before we got here.”
“That’s good. I almost wish I had wings. Is the water cold?”
“Yes, terribly,” replied Fuzzy Wuzz, shuddering. “That’s why we hate to take the plunge. Ugh! It makes me shiver!”
Bumper laughed at her expression. “When the fire gets here it will be warm enough,” he said.
Fuzzy Wuzz suddenly grew grave and serious. “It’s too bad about Bobby Gray Squirrel,” she said.
“What’s the matter with Bobby?” asked Bumper.