Another long trudge through the fast-deepening twilight and another disappointment, for when they reached the tree, they found to their dismay that it was not the one Ned climbed, and no road anywhere appeared.
“Are we lost?” quavered Rob, clasping his pail in despair.
“Not much. I don’t just see which way to go, and I guess we’d better call.”
So they both shouted till they were hoarse, yet nothing answered but the frogs in full chorus.
“There is another tall tree over there, perhaps that’s the one,” said Nan, whose heart sunk within her, though she still spoke bravely.
“I don’t think I can go any more; my boots are so heavy I can’t pull ’em;” and Robby sat down on a stone quite worn out.
“Then we must stay here all night. I don’t care much, if snakes don’t come.”
“I’m frightened of snakes. I can’t stay all night. Oh, dear! I don’t like to be lost,” and Rob puckered up his face to cry, when suddenly a thought occurred to him, and he said, in a tone of perfect confidence,—
“Marmar will come and find me—she always does; I ain’t afraid now.”
“She won’t know where we are.”