In frantic haste he searched in every direction.

“Perhaps,” thought he, “they have become frightened at the sound of bears, and hidden themselves in a thicket.  They may even have got tired and gone to sleep.  But where is Tom Hennessy?”

Again and again he returned to the boat, as though some clue might there be found to the missing ones; but as often he turned back in despair, trusting now only to the flashes of the lightning to aid him in his search.  The sharp twigs and branches tore his face and hands as, bending low, he forced himself where the tangled undergrowth stood thickest.  Soon his hunting-cap was dragged from his head, as by some angry hand; he knew that it had caught upon the branches, and did not even try to find it in the darkness.

The heavy drops of rain, falling upon his bare head, cooled him with a strange feeling of relief.  Next his gun, which he had leaned against a tree, while on hands and knees he had forced his way into some brush, was swallowed up in the darkness.

In vain he peered around him at every flash that lit the forest—­he could see nothing of it.  Suddenly a bright gleam, shooting across his pathway, revealed something that instantly caught his eye—­it was a small bit of blue ribbon, such as Bessie often wore.  Bending to pick it up, he started back in horror!  The light had lasted but an instant, yet it had been long enough to show him that the ribbon was stained with blood, while near it the stones and leaves shone crimson!  Even the gnarled roots of a fallen tree were dabbled with a fearful stain.  He could see it all distinctly.  With upraised arms, he knelt and poured forth an agonized prayer—­

“Great God! where are my children?  Oh! have mercy! have mercy!”

Flash after flash lighted up the kneeling form.  Presently loud voices resounded through the forest: 

“What, ho!” “Hedden!  Hedden!” “Hennessy!  Tom!” “Hallo!”

Hedden stood upright.  The voices were familiar.  He shouted back lustily, and hurried toward the approaching lanterns.  Alas! he came upon faces almost as pale and inquiring us his own—­no news on either side!

His neighbors had eagerly responded to the mother’s appeal, but so far had searched the forest in vain.  If Bouncer only could be found; and, for almost the first time in years, Hedden called, “Bouncer!  Bouncer!” without seeing the great fellow leaping toward him.  What wonder, though—­even Bouncer could scarcely have recognized that voice now!

“Hark!” cried one of the neighbors.

They listened.  There was certainly a panting sound from some spot not far away.

“Bouncer!  Bouncer!” cried the poor father.  The panting again; they lowered their lanterns.  What was that lying upon the ground—­lying there close by Bouncer?  It was Bessie!  They rushed toward her.  She was lying very still; Bouncer was breathing heavily.

They raised her from the ground.