ty, and holding Trit close she sprang into the shallow water
and in a moment was safe on shore.

The old boat, now half-filled with water, moved slowly on, and Anna knew
that it would not be long afloat. She looked about her landing-place
with wondering eyes. Behind the little grassy point where she stood the
forest stretched close and dark; the curve of the river shut away the
course by which she had come, but she could look down the smooth flowing
current, and toward the wooded shores opposite.

The rabbit moved uneasily in her hands, and the little girl smoothed him
tenderly. "I don't know who will ever find me here, unless it should be
Indians," she said aloud, remembering the canoe that she and Rebby had
noticed as they sat on the big rock.

Anna felt a little choking feeling in her throat at the remembrance. It
seemed so long ago since she had seen Rebby and her father. "And it's
all your fault, Trit," she told the rabbit; "but you could not help it,"
she added quickly, and remembered that the rabbit must be hungry and
thirsty, and for a little while busied herself in finding tender leaves
and buds for Trit to eat, and in holding him close to the water's edge
so that he could drink. Then she wandered about the little clearing and
to the edge of the dark forest. She began to feel hungry, and knew by
the sun that it was well past noon.

"Oh! If that Indian we saw in the canoe would only come downstream,"
she thought longingly. For Anna well knew that when night came she would
be in danger from the wild beasts of the wilderness, but that almost any
of the Indians who fished and hunted in that region would take her
safely back to her home.

An hour or two dragged slowly by; Anna was very tired. She held Trit
close, and sat down not far from the river's edge. "Father will find me
some way," she said to herself over and over, and tried not to let
thoughts of fear and loneliness find a place in her mind. The little
wild rabbit was no longer afraid of its captor, and Anna was sure that
it was sorry it had led her into such trouble. But now and then tears
came to the little girl's eyes, when suddenly she heard a voice from the
river just above the curve singing a familiar air:

"Success to fair America,--
To courage to be free,
Success to fair America,
Success to Liberty."

"Oh! That is Paul! That is Paul!" cried Anna, jumping up and down with
joy; and the next moment a canoe swung round the curve,