Yes, it was not the "whiff" of a startled deer or moose, but struck the astonished boy more like the wailing cry of a distressed child. CHAPTER X FINDING A SUNBEAM At first Phil found it hard to believe he heard aright. "I've known cats to make sounds like a baby crying, when they were facing each other, and ready to scrap," he told himself. The more he listened the stronger grew his conviction. "Even if it turns out to be a pair of spitting young bobcats," he concluded, "I'd like to snap 'em off. As to a child, what would one be doing away up here in this wilderness, unless--by George, now, that might be it." He had suddenly remembered how they found the little cap, yes, and a baby silver thimble in the cabin. It was no trouble at all to locate the source of the sounds. The sobs continued as he advanced. In a few minutes Phil was gazing with considerable surprise upon a figure outstretched on the ground. He could see it was a little girl, possibly four years old. She had golden curls, and when she looked up suddenly at hearing his footsteps Phil discovered that she was as pretty as a fairy. Just then she looked a little forlorn, since her face was soiled from the dirt, and tears had made furrows down her cheeks. She scrambled to her feet, and seemed hardly to know whether to try and run away, or put her childish trust in this strange boy. Now Phil was always a favorite with younger children. They all loved him because he had such a pleasant face, engaging laugh, and seemed to know just how to appeal to a child's heart. Few boys care to bother with little tots; they only appear as a nuisance in their eyes. Phil, however, was different. "Hello! here, little girl, what's all the trouble about?" he asked, cheerily; and somehow there must have been magic in his voice, for the look of fear left the child's face immediately. She recognized a friend in need. As a rule children, just the same as most dogs do, have an instinct that tells them who to trust. "I'se losted!" she said, simply, with a little sob in her voice. Phil had now reached her side. She did not shrink from him as he bent down and put his hand gently on her curly head. Something that she saw in his kind eyes, perhaps the vein of sympathy so pronounced in his tones, told her this strange boy could be safely trusted. "Now, that's too bad," Phil went on to say, just as if he himself had been "losted" and hence knew how it felt. "But who are you lost from?" "Daddy," she said, simply, as though taking it for granted that every one must know who was implied by that term; because to her mind there was only one "daddy" on earth. Phil believed he saw it all now. The man who had occupied the cabin, had this child with him. For some unknown reason he had taken alarm, perhaps because of their coming to the lonely lake, and made a hurried change of base.