"Oh!" she gasped. "I heard the awfullest groans! Some one must be either dying for a drink, or dying from a drink. The groans were wet!"
Cora jumped up, as did some of the others.
"Come on," said Cora. "I'm not afraid. Some one may need help."
"Oh, they do—I am sure," panted Cecilia. "All kinds of help, I should say. The moans were chromatic."
"Listen!" commanded Cora, as the sounds came over the hill. Low, then fierce growls and groans, tapering down to grunts and exclamation marks sounded through the grove.
"Oh!" screamed Belle.
"What can it be?" exclaimed Daisy.
"Almost anything," suggested Cora. "But we had best be specific," and she started in the direction of the mysterious sounds.
Cecilia followed, as did Bess, while the others held off in evident fear.
Although it was high noon, in the grove the heavy spruce and cedar trees darkened the place, and the farther the girls penetrated into the depths of the wood, the deeper did the shadows close in around them. Cora picked up a stout stick as she advanced.