Tavia knew better than to ask more questions just then. She almost forgot their predicament in the joy of seeing the girl apparently sane.
"I wonder if you can walk?"
"I am going to try. Just give me your hand—there, that's it," and the sufferer pulled herself up and stood beside Tavia.
"I wonder might there be a path? I was so alarmed when you fell, that I did not take time to look for one, I just slid down the rocks. But to get up would be very different."
"It is—dark, almost. We will have to look—I can't talk—just now. I have that strange feeling in my head."
"You must not talk. Just follow me, lean on me! Oh, I am sure we will get up safely; and once upon the road we must find some help!"
Tavia was afraid to look with too much scrutiny into the white face, afraid she might again see that wild-eyed warning.
Following the mossy way they trudged along. How far away even the sky was! Could two girls be more desolate?
Thoughts of camp, and of Dorothy, almost crushed Tavia. Young and strong as she was, her experience was beginning to leave its mark. She felt weak, and was hungry!
But the strange girl seemed to have recovered her reason! Tavia must not falter, she must get up, out to the roadway.