“She didn’t know I was shut up in the ice-house, but she found me. I know she’ll come,” returned Robby, so trustfully, that Nan felt relieved, and sat down by him, saying, with a remorseful sigh,—
“I wish we hadn’t run away.”
“You made me; but I don’t mind much—Marmar will love me just the same,” answered Rob, clinging to his sheet-anchor when all other hope was gone.
“I’m so hungry. Let’s eat our berries,” proposed Nan after a pause, during which Rob began to nod.
“So am I, but I can’t eat mine, ’cause I told Marmar I’d keep them all for her.”
“You’ll have to eat them if no one comes for us,” said Nan, who felt like contradicting every thing just then. “If we stay here a great many days, we shall eat up all the berries in the field, and then we shall starve,” she added, grimly.
“I shall eat sassafras. I know a big tree of it, and Dan told me how squirrels dig up the roots and eat them, and I love to dig,” returned Rob, undaunted by the prospect of starvation.
“Yes; and we can catch frogs, and cook them. My father ate some once, and he said they were nice,” put in Nan, beginning to find a spice of romance even in being lost in a huckleberry pasture.
“How could we cook frogs? we haven’t got any fire.”
“I don’t know; next time I’ll have matches in my pocket,” said Nan, rather depressed by this obstacle to the experiment in frog-cookery.