"It's very strange," said Mr. Kilgore, "that the basket should be found
on the bridge: what do you make of it, Mr. Layton?"

The teacher shook his head.

"It is strange, indeed; had there been no water in the creek you could
have set it down as certain that the child had not fallen from it, but,
as she could not have done so without drowning, I am inclined to
think--"

The instructor hesitated, as if afraid to pronounce the dreadful words.

"You think she is drowned?" said his friend, supplying the answer with
his own question.

Mr. Layton nodded his head by way of reply, and, holding the lanterns in
front, they began groping their way along the margin of the creek.

By raising the lights above their heads the rays reached the opposite
bank, lighting up the water between. This was unusually clear, and they
could see the bottom some distance from shore.

Both felt that if the body was floating anywhere they could not fail to
see it, though the probabilities were that it was already far below
them, and would be first discovered by the parents and brother.

"Halloa!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Layton, lowering his lantern close to
the ground, "I don't like _that_."

By way of explanation, he pointed to the damp soil where no vegetation
grew: it was directly in front and close to the water, being that
portion which was frequently swept by the creek when above its present
level.

Parallel to the stream, for a distance of several rods or so, were a
number of imprints in the yielding earth, which the first glance showed
were made by some large animal.

"It must have been a dog," ventured the teacher, who had little
practical knowledge of the animals of the wood.

Mr. Kilgore shook his head.

"It was a bear; there can be no mistake about it. Mr. Marston was right;
it was the track of a similar animal which he saw last March."

"You are not mistaken, Mr. Kilgore?"

The farmer answered impatiently:

"I have hunted bears too often to be mistaken; I can tell their trail
among a hundred others, and the one which went along here a little while
ago was one of the largest of his kind."

CHAPTER IX.

THE LITTLE WANDERER.

Although Nellie Ribsam was only eight years old at the time she was lost
in the big woods, yet the results of the training received from her
sensible father and mother showed themselves in a marked degree on that
memorable occasion.

She had been taught, as was her brother, that under