"We
must wait till we get a little farther on," he said; "and anyhow it
wouldn't be good for you to drink just now."

So they sat down again, she on a stone in front of him.

"I ran the whole way," she said, as if to excuse herself--and
presently added, "and I have had no dinner," and after another
pause--"and I didn't sleep last night."

Instead of expressing any sympathy with her, he asked sharply: "Then I
suppose Mildrid did not sleep last night either? And she has not
eaten, I saw that myself, not for"--he thought a little--"not for ever
so long."

He rose. "Can you go on now?"

"I think so."

He took her hand, and they set off again at a tremendous pace. Soon he
saw that she could not keep it up, so he took off his coat, gave it to
her to hold, and lifted her up and carried her. She did not want him
to do it, but he just went easily off with her, and Beret held on by
his neckerchief, for she dared not touch him. Soon she said that she
had got her breath and could run quite well again, so he put her down,
took his coat and hung it over his gun--and off they went! When they
came to a stream they stopped and rested a little before she took a
drink. As she got up he gave her a friendly smile, and said: "You're a
good little one."

Evening was coming on when they reached the soeter. They looked in
vain for Mildrid, both there and at her place on the hillside. Their
calls died away in the distance, and when Hans noticed the dog
standing snuffing at something they felt quite alarmed. They ran to
look--it was her little shawl. At once Hans set the dog to seek the
owner of the shawl. He sprang off, and they after him, across the hill
and down on the other side, towards Tingvold. Could she have gone
home? Beret told of her own thoughtless question and its consequences,
and Hans said he saw it all. Beret began to cry.

"Shall we go after her or not?" said Hans.

"Yes, yes!" urged Beret, half distracted. But first they would have to
go to the next soeter, and ask their neighbours to send some one to
attend to the cows for them. While they were still talking about this,
and at the same time following the dog, they saw him stop and look
back, wagging his tail. They ran to him, and there lay Mildrid!

She was lying with her head on her arm, her face half buried in the
heather. They stepped up gently; the dog licked her hands and cheek,
and she stretched herself and changed her position, but slept on. "Let
her sleep