CHAPTER XXVII[ToC]
ONE KIND OF CAMP
"Oh, Tavia! Where are you?"
It was Dorothy who jumped from rock to stone, and over bush and bramble, through that deep dark wood, which now, in the shadow of sunset, threatened again to bring anguish to our young friends. "I heard you," she called. "Answer again!"
But this time there was no response.
"Oh, what can have happened?" wailed Dorothy. "Surely she is—not too ill—when she called and whistled just now."
She was talking, but no one was at hand to hear her.
Cologne was doing her best to reach Dorothy, but she had made a turn to notify the boys, and was really too surprised, and frightened, to make anything like the progress that her friend was able to make through the rough forest.
Dorothy stopped and listened. She had reached a cleared spot, where the branches of a beautiful fir stood out over a greensward, like a natural tower. Without hesitating a moment, Dorothy easily scaled the strong branches, and presently could see from the height of the fir tree a spot—ideal! Yes, and there was something white on it!