“These trees sort of block our way,” Horace remarked as the car squeezed through a narrow space between two evergreens that rained prickly needles. More trees were missed by inches. They reached the beaver dam in a surprisingly short time. Judy was out of the car first.
“Now you’ll see,” she called over her shoulder. “Right here is where we saw the beavers last night, and there!” She pointed, and Horace whistled in surprise.
“Whew-ee!” he breathed. “She’s there all right, and she is the same lady. That beaver dam looks solid. I think, if we go out there together, we can pull her out of the water. You hold me, and I’ll pull.”
“I promised Peter I wouldn’t—” Judy started to object. But Horace was already walking out on the beaver dam.
“We’ve got to do it, Sis. We can’t leave the poor damsel in distress. Just hold me so I won’t fall in.”
There was no stopping him, Judy thought, but he could wait until she had brushed the needles out of her hair.
“Wait!”
Judy turned her head in surprise. She hadn’t spoken. At first she couldn’t tell where the voice came from.
“Don’t touch that lady!” the voice warned again.
It sounded as if the trees themselves were warning Horace. He was so startled that he lost his balance and fell headlong into the pond.