Afterward they heard its cries first up the slope behind the camp, and then down by the brook.
"We mustn't go out," Kate whispered.

"If it were to bite us, we, too, should go mad." There was no danger of the beast's breaking into the camp, and after a while the girls kindled a fire, thawed out their luncheon and ate it.
The December sun was sinking low, and soon set behind the tree tops.

It was a long way home, and they had their baskets of mitchella to carry.
Hoping that the distressed creature had gone its way, they listened for a while at the door, and at last ventured forth; but when they drew near the place where Kate had gathered the dry spruce branches they heard the creature yapping in the thickets ahead.

In a panic they ran back to the camp.
Their situation was not pleasant.

They dared not venture out again.
Darkness had already set in; the camp was cold and they had little fuel.
The prospect that any one from home would come to their aid was small, for they were now a long way from Dunham's open, where they had said they were going, and where, of course, search parties would look for them.