very deep. Limberleg ran out on the
stones.

"Come," she called to the Twins. "Follow close after me." She leaped
lightly over the stones to the middle of the stream, where the river was
deepest. The children followed part way; then Firetop stood still on
one of the stones and looked at the swirling water. Firefly was on the
next stone behind him. The stone in front looked a long way off to
Firetop.

"I can't jump so far," he squealed.

"I can't either," wailed Firefly. "My legs aren't long enough."

"Jump," cried Limberleg, impatiently.

"We can't," shouted the Twins, beginning to cry.

You see, they were afraid of water, and it really wasn't much wonder,
for they had never even had a real bath in their whole lives. I've
known children to feel just the same way about water in these days.
They can't bear it, even on a wash-cloth.

Hawk-Eye was on the stone behind them. "Jump," he shouted, "or I'll
give you something to cry for." And that was the very first time that
any parent ever said that about giving them something to cry for, and
they've been saying it ever since, to my personal knowledge.

You see that, with Limberleg in front calling "Jump" and Hawk-Eye behind
saying such alarming things, the Twins were in a tight place. There was
nothing to do but jump. So Firetop took a flying leap, and Firefly
followed him. Unluckily she came just a little too soon. She jumped on
to Firetop. His feet flew out from under him, he lost his footing on
the stone, and they both rolled into the cold water.

The crying they had done before wasn't anything to what they did then, I
can tell you. That is, as soon as their heads were out of the water
again.

They might have been carried away by the current, if Hawk-Eye hadn't
instantly thrown his spear across to the farther shore and jumped in
after them. He seized one of them with each hand and waded with them to
land. Then he picked up his spear again from the ground where it had
fallen.

If you will believe me, the Twins held tight to their own little spears
all the time, even when they were under the water! It was all they had
to hold to, to be sure, and besides, they loved those spears more than
we love dolls and roller skates and marbles and baseball, all put
together.

Limberleg laughed at the dripping little figures.

"You look like a pair of water-rats," she cried. The Twins could not
see anything funny in that. Little streams of water trickl