Suddenly, through the close crowding pines which had so nearly shut out the daylight, appeared an open space, and Roxie hailed it with delight, for it was the river, and once across the river she felt as if she would be safe.  Even in the brief glance she threw around as she burst from the edge of the wood, she saw that here was neither the bridge nor the ford which she had crossed in the morning; a point altogether strange and new to her, and, as she judged, further down the river, since the space from shore to shore was considerably wider.  But the bear was close behind, and neither time nor courage for deliberation was at hand, and Roxie, after her moment’s pause, sprung forward upon the snowy ice, closely followed by the clumsy little beast.

At that very moment, a mile further up stream, Mr. Beamish and his son Jake were cautiously driving Rob across the frozen ford, and the old man was saying: 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to go round by the bridge after this, Jake.  I shouldn’t wonder if the river broke up this very night.  See that crack.”

[Illustration:  THE RESCUE.]

“It wouldn’t do for Roxie to come over here alone again,” said Jake, probing the ice-crack with his stick.

And Roxie,—­poor little Roxie,—­whom Jake was so glad to think of as safe at home, was at that very moment stepping over a wide crack between two great masses of ice, and staring forlornly about her, for a little way in advance appeared another great gap, and the bear close behind was whimpering with terror as he clung to the edge of the floating mass upon which Roxie had only just leaped, and which he had failed to jump upon.  Shaking with cold and fright, the little girl staggered forward across the ice until at its further edge she came upon a narrow, swiftly rolling tide, increasing in width at every moment—­the current of the river suddenly set free from its winter’s bondage, and rapidly dashing away its chains.

Roxie turned back, but the crack that she had stepped over was already far too wide for her to attempt to repass, and a gentle shaking movement under her feet told that the block on which she stood was already in motion, and that no escape was possible without more strength and courage than a little girl could be expected to possess.  The bear had climbed up, and now crouched timidly to the edge of the ice, moaning with fear, and seeming to take so little notice of Roxie that she forgot all her fear of him, and these two, crouching upon the rocking and slippery floor of their strange prison, went floating down the turbulent stream.

The twilight deepened into dark, the stars came out bright and cold, and so far away from human need and woe!  Little Roxie ceased her useless tears, and kneeling upon the ice put her hands together and prayed, adding to the petition she had learned at her mother’s knee some simple words of her own great need.

A yet more piteous whine from the bear showed his terror as the ice-block gave a sickening whirl, and crawling upon his stomach he crept close up to the little girl, his whole air saying as plainly as words could have spoken: