At once losing interest in the squirrel, she put down her basket to look about her. With a pang of sharp dismay, the child realized that she had lost her bearings, and did not know which way to turn. Just at that moment her keen ear caught a sound that she immediately recognized. It was the regular blows of an axe falling upon a tree-trunk. Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands for joy. "That’s father chopping!" she exclaimed. "Now I know which way to go!" And picking up her basket, Edie trotted off in what she took to be the direction from which the sound came. On she trudged bravely for some distance, hoping each minute to come upon her father, until, growing weary of her burden, she put it down to rest a moment. As she rested it seemed to her that the sound of chopping had grown fainter—so much so, indeed, she could hardly make out which way it came to her ears. "Oh dear!" she sighed; "where can father be? I’ll call for him." And she made the place ring with shrill cries of "Father! father! Where are you?" But they evoked no response, and then, more alarmed than ever, Edie picked up her basket again, and pushed on with all her little strength. Unhappily every step increased the distance between Mr. Hazen and herself; for it was not the real sound of the chopping Edie had followed but the echo, and instead of making toward him, she had been going in directly the opposite direction. At the end of an hour she felt very tired, and throwing herself down on a bank of moss at the foot of a forest monarch, gave way to the tears that hitherto she had resolutely restrained. "Oh dear!" she said, "I’m lost, I’m lost! and how ever will father find me?" After the first passion of tears had passed, Edie began to be conscious of the pangs of hunger, and the thought came that she might as well eat something out of the basket, as she could not find her father to give it to him. So she ate a little of the bread and meat, and took a sup out of the bottle of milk, and then, feeling refreshed, renewed her tramp, first listening eagerly, but in vain, for the sound of her father’s axe. All that afternoon the lost child alternately walked and rested, often crying softly to herself, then drying her tears and seeking to take heart from the hope of yet finding her father before darkness came on. She was a brave little thing, accustomed to a good deal of outdoor life, and to running through the woods; but when night closed around her and the forest shade deepened into impenetrable gloom, poor Edie gave up the struggle, and sank down in a mossy hollow, shivering with terror. Yet so weary was she that presently she fell asleep, and did not awake until dawn, when, though feeling very stiff and sore from the unwonted exertions of the day before, she ate her breakfast out of the basket and renewed her progress.