“What kind of a horn was it that the hunter man had?” asked Beckie, as she and her brother took hold of paws again, and started for home. “It wasn’t at all like the one the professor man blew on. His was brass.”
“I know it,” answered Neddie, “and this one was made of birch bark, rolled up like a cornucopia such as come on Christmas trees. Only those are filled with candy, and this one had nothing but air in it.”
“I see,” said Beckie. “And can you blow on a birch bark horn, Neddie?”
“I can blow a little bit on that kind of a horn,” said Neddie. “But we’d better not stop now to try it. Let’s hurry home.”
So the two little bear children went on, over hills and dales, and through the woods.
Now, whether they were not careful to take the right path, or whether the hunter and his dog and gun had so scared them that they didn’t know what they were doing, I can’t begin to say. It might have been one thing, and then, again, on the other hand, it might have been something else. And I don’t want to make a mistake.
Anyhow, the first thing Beckie and Neddie realized was that they were lost. They didn’t know where they were, nor how to get home. All they knew was that they were in the woods, some distance from home, and night was coming on.
“Oh, dear!” cried Beckie, when she saw that Neddie did not know his way home. “Oh, dear me!”
“Don’t worry, sister dear,” he said. “I’ll take care of you,” and he put his paws about her.
“Oh, I know you will,” said Beckie, “and you are as kind as you can be; but, still, and with all that, if I stay out after dark my cold may get worse again, and I’ll have to take more of that bitter medicine.”