throats that time. "Ow, ow, ow," they screamed,
and "Ow, ow, ow," came back from the forest and the river.

"It must be the spirits of the water and the trees, mocking us," said
Firetop. "It sounded just like us."

You see, they did not know what an echo was.

"I'm scared," said Firefly.

"I am too, a little," Firetop admitted.

"Let's not call any more. If we keep still, maybe the spirits won't
find us," whispered Firefly.

They snuggled down in the wolf-skins and kept very still. By and by
they heard a crashing sound in the underbrush not far away. They were
stiff with fright. They didn't dare even to breathe. Then came a loud
cry, "Hoo, hoo, hooooooo," and the crashing noise came nearer. It came
right under their tree. Then somebody's voice called, "Are you awake,
little red foxes, up in the tree?"

Two red heads instantly popped over the edge of the tree beds, and two
voices cried out something that meant, "Oh, we're so glad that you've
come back."

Limberleg climbed the tree and untied the children. It took them about
two seconds to get to the ground, and they didn't fall down either.
There under the tree they found Hawk-Eye. He was preparing breakfast.
He and Limberleg had gone down to the river-bank very early and had
found a whole colony of turtles. They had brought home four turtle-eggs
apiece. If I were an arithmetic, I should ask how many eggs there were!
It would have been of no use to ask the Twins. Neither they nor their
father and mother could have told you. They hadn't any of them learned
to count that far. Nobody could in those days.

They made short work of the eggs, even if they couldn't add or multiply
or divide. When they had finished eating them, they strapped their
skins on their shoulders once more and started up the river. All the
morning they tramped steadily along, looking for a good place to ford
it. The sun was already in the west, when suddenly Limberleg stopped at
a turn in the bluff.

"See, see," she cried. "Two rivers." They all stopped and looked. The
river forked at that point, or rather two smaller streams came together
making one big one.

There was a high V-shaped point of land between the two streams.

"Now we can cross," cried Limberleg, joyfully. She led the way, running
and leaping down the bluffs to the river's edge. The banks at this
point were sandy and the river full of stones. The current was swift,
but the water was clear and not