They understood it, and hurried to the spot, with Linna close behind them.
It would have been expected that she would indulge in some outburst when she saw how ill everything had gone; but, with one grieved look, she went up to the sorrowing, weeping mother and buried her head between her knees.
And then she did what no one of that party had ever before seen her do--she sobbed with a breaking heart.

The mother soothed her as best she could, uttering words which she heard not.
Ben Ripley when the blow came, stood erect, and folded his arms.

His face was pale, but his lips were mute.

Not even by look did he ask for mercy from their captors.
In the midst of the impressive tableau, Linna suddenly raised her head from the lap of the mother, her action and attitude showing she had caught some sound which she recognized.
But everyone else in the party also noted it.

It was a shrill, penetrating whistle, ringing among the forest arches--a call which she had heard many a time, and she could never mistake its meaning.
Her eyes sparkled through her tears, which wet her cheeks; but she forgot everything but that signal.
"Dat Omas!--dat Omas--dat fader!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet, trembling and aglow with excitement.
There was one among the three who, had his painted complexion permitted, would have turned ashy pale.