There was reason for the children’s hunger. It was now after six o’clock, the sun had disappeared behind the woods, and they had walked a long way.
Once they heard a great crashing in the bushes.
“Bears! bears!” whispered the excitable Dot.
“No-o,” Tess said, gravely. “It didn’t say anything about there being bears in this neighborhood, in that book of Neale’s. If there were bears, he’d have told us about them.”
“Well—well——whales, maybe.”
“Goodness, Dot! you are the tryingest child! Whales live in the sea.”
“Don’t they ever come out?”
“Of course not,” declared Tess, with conviction.
“Not even to rest themselves?” demanded Dot, with wonder. “I should think they would get awful tired swimming all the time. It must be more tireful than walking,” and she sighed.
“Tire-some,” corrected Tess, but without enthusiasm, and thinking of the whales. “Perhaps they come into shallow water and lie down on the bottom of the sea with their heads sticking out to breathe. Yes, that must be it.”