"So we've got to
find the woman by ourselves."
"Oh, dear!" murmured Rose.
But she would not let Russ go alone into the patch of forest behind the
site of Mammy June's burned cabin; nor did she feel like remaining alone
in the clearing. Russ picked up a good sized stick and started toward
the woods.
"Let's shout when we get to the edge," whispered Rose.
They did so; but, really, their voices sounded very faint indeed. No
reply came. It was several minutes after, and Russ and Rose were quite a
distance into the woods and following what seemed to be a
half-grown-over path, before the "woman" screamed again.
"Goodness! How hateful that sounds!" cried Rose.
"I guess she is more scared than we are," ventured Russ. "What do you
think?"
"I think I'd like to be back at the house," answered Rose.
But Russ would not agree with her. As he went on he grew more confident.
They did not see even a rabbit. And Russ and Rose knew that rabbits were
often out at night.
If they had but known it, the awful screech that so disturbed them,
disturbed the rabbits and the other small fry of the woods much more. At
the sound of that terrible hunger-cry all the rabbits, and hares, and
birds that nested on the ground or in trees, trembled.
But Russ seemed to grow braver by the minute. And Rose of course could
not fail to be inspired by his show of courage.
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