“Come on, Cologne,” said Dorothy.  “I see a path to the place.  It must be somebody’s camp.”

“Why not wait for the boys?  Give me your whistle.  I must call them.  Where can they have gone to?”

“I am not going to wait one moment,” declared Dorothy.  “She may be suffering!”

The bent grass and weeds showed the way, Dorothy hurried along, only stopping to listen for the hoped-for voice.  But there was no word from Tavia.

Cologne was almost behind Dorothy, but she could not conquer her fear.  She hesitated to make the first attempt to reach the tent.

Jumping over a small stream, Dorothy was beside the camp furnace.  The next moment she stood looking at Tavia!

“Tavia!” she exclaimed.

“Hush!” whispered Tavia.  “We must not wake her.  Oh, Dorothy!”

Like a poor, crushed bird Tavia fell at Dorothy’s feet.  She sobbed convulsively, but choked back every possible sound.

“Darling!” whispered Dorothy.  “What is it?”

“The sick girl!  She has almost died!” sighed Tavia.  “Oh, I dared not answer again.  She was so frightened at my voice!”

“Run back, Cologne, and meet the boys,” said Dorothy.  “Tell them to go for a doctor!”

Glad to get away, Cologne turned, just as the boys came racing over the hill.  They stopped, at her raised hand of warning, but Nat would not go back when he heard that Tavia had been found.  Softly he made his way along, Ralph following at some distance, while Ned and Jack hurried to the shore near where they had left their boats.  They knew that just across the river they would find a camp, in which might be found Dr. Ashton, from New York.

It was almost pitiable to see how Tavia clung to Dorothy, never suspecting, of course, that Dorothy had herself gone through an experience more trying than her own.

“Let me see her,” suggested Dorothy.  “I will be very careful.”

She stepped within the tent.  Instantly she was struck with the resemblance between herself and the girl who lay on the cot.

The sick girl opened her eyes.

“Tavia!” she murmured.

“What, dear?” asked Dorothy, for Tavia had not yet recovered herself.

“I—­am so—­much better.  I would—­like to—­sit up.”

“Not just yet, dear,” soothed Dorothy, putting her hand to the hot forehead.  “It will be better to rest to-night.”

“But you—­must not stay—­longer—­from your friends,” she said.  “Leave me, and look for them.  Then come back.”

“We are here,” ventured Dorothy, aware that the girl was worrying about Tavia.  “We have come to take you both home.”

“Not back there!” and the girl sat bolt upright, and looked into Dorothy’s pale face.

“No, to camp, with us, with Dorothy and with Tavia.  Then we will send for your mother.”

“Oh, I am so glad,” she sighed, lying back on the pillow.

Nat had Tavia in his arms.  She was now almost hysterical, and like the Nat he had always been, he turned the tables by accusing Tavia of having all the camping to herself.