Again they heard the call. It seemed to come from the other side of the lake—the shore where the Dogtown boat landing was situated.
“Again! All together!” ordered Burd Alling.
At that the shipwrecked party raised their voices once more and made the echoes ring. Their cries startled birds in the trees along the shore and some of them made angry protest. A pair of horned owls swept out of a grove and went “hoothooing” through the bottoms, to the terror of field mice and other small game.
Amy shuddered, too, when it was over. “Those birds always give me the shakes,” she gasped. “Was it them shouting, do you suppose?”
But now the cry, and an unmistakably human cry, came nearer. There was a craft approaching. Darry stood up cautiously, balancing himself on the log, and gazed over the murky lake.
“I see it! It’s coming!” he muttered.
Then an eery cry reached their ears. Jessie gasped.
“It’s that child!” she cried.
“What child do you mean?” demanded Darry.
“Little Henrietta. That is who it is.” She raised her voice again and cried: “Henrietta! We’re here!”