For a minute Ivra was in despair.  “Now they are gone for the day to circle the world, and I shall never find mother,” she thought.  But she did not waste any more breath running.  She stopped short and lifted her voice, clear and insistent, “Wild Star!  Wild Star!  I need you!  Don’t run away.  Wild Star!”

The Wind Creatures had reached the foot of the hill, running swiftly hand in hand, and their wings were already lifted for flying.  But Wild Star, at the sound of Ivra’s voice, leaned back suddenly on the hands he was holding, almost throwing his comrades on their faces, and breaking the line.  He turned right about, swinging the others with him, and came leaping and running back.

“What is the matter, little comrade?” he asked.  “What is the matter?”

“In all your flying ’round the world, Wild Star, you must have seen my mother Helma.  She is lost.  Oh, can’t you tell us where she is?”

“Yes, of course.  But I didn’t know she was lost.  I thought she was visiting Earth-friends.”

“Truly, truly?” Ivra’s eyes shone with joy, and Eric grabbed his cap from his head and threw it up in the air shouting, “Hurrah!”

“Oh, will you bring her to us right away?” Ivra begged.

Wild Star looked doubtful.  “Perhaps she wouldn’t want to come.”

Ivra laughed merrily at that.  “Then take us to her,” she said, “and you will see how she wants to come when we ask her.”

“Give us your hands, then!”

They held out their hands.  Ivra’s was grasped by Wild Star’s and Eric’s by another Wind Creature.  With their free hands they clasped each other’s.  So the four started running down the hill, while the rest of the Wind Creatures flew off over their heads.

Wild Star and his comrade ran faster and faster, until Eric wondered how it was that he and Ivra were ever keeping up with them.  Soon he realized that his feet were scarcely touching the ground.  At the foot of the hill stood a little group of birches, and they were running right upon it.  He did not see how they could either turn out or stop themselves at that speed.  Almost as soon as he had seen the birches, though, they were beyond them.  They had not turned out, they had jumped right over the birches, and they were much higher than Eric’s head!  They were running so swiftly now that only their toes ever touched the ground,—­if they did.

What fun it was to run like that, the wind at their backs, and the Wind Creatures drawing them strongly forward faster and faster and faster until they were really flying just above the snow.

Across white fields they skimmed,—­over fences and frozen streams, bushes and banks, through orchards and meadows, on, on, on, until they came to the town.

There Ivra pulled back for a minute, and the Wind Creatures slowed down.  Eric knew why Ivra was afraid of the town.  She had told him all about it while they played in the wood.  Helma, her mother, was a human, but she hated the town and loved the fairies and their ways.  That was why she had run away to live by herself in the wood.  But Ivra was neither fairy nor human; she was both.