"Or muskrat traps," groaned Ned, who walked with difficulty.
At this they separated.
For some time they heard nothing more than their own voices calling back and forth.
"Isn't it awful?" sighed Cologne. "Dorothy, I think it is utterly useless. I am afraid she is—dead."
"I know she is not," declared Dorothy, "and I am not going to give up until I have searched every inch of this wood. Now I am going to shout!"
"Tavia! Tavia!" she yelled, and her clear voice struck an echo against the hills. "Tavia! Tavia!" she called again.
"Hark!" said Cologne. "Didn't I hear——"
"I heard something!" declared Dorothy, and the sound came from back of the hill. "Boys! Boys!" she shouted, but they were now too far away to answer promptly. "Don't try to follow, Cologne. I feel that I can run like the wind. I heard Tavia's voice, and I heard it—right—over—there!"
As she flew through the woods Cologne, in distress, tried to summon the boys. She feared Dorothy would fall again, over some rock or cliff. But there was no use trying to stop her. She had heard Tavia's voice, and that was enough.