Thus it happened that one boy in pulling off his shoe aimed it carelessly at the fruit-jar. Over it toppled with a jingling crash, and the next instant the Minnow Twins were back in the brook and had darted out of sight under a stone. Here they lay just a few seconds, because they felt a little weak after their confinement. At last they stole cautiously forth, and as good luck would have it found themselves right in a little bed of mint. They nibbled greedily of the healing mint roots, and soon the wonderful tonic made them quite strong again. Whisking off and looking warily to right and left, they started in the direction of their old haunts. Soon dear, familiar landmarks began to appear. They hailed with delight the form of old Mrs. Muskrat, grey and fat, sitting upon the bank scolding her children crossly through her whiskers. Their little friend, the water wag-tail bird, came tiptoeing in and out of the brook, searching every pebble for bugs, just as she always did day after day. She gave a droll little flirt, a sort of welcome, with her funny little tail as the Minnow Twins slid quickly by. The grey squirrels were chasing each other up and down the tree trunks merrily, and surely--yes, far up-stream, they caught sight of the old, familiar log, which lay just below the grass tussock, and right there Mrs. Spotted-Turtle and her family lay sunning themselves, ranged in a long line down the log. All the little turtles craned their scaly, spotted necks over the log as the minnows passed under, and one of the turtles which recognised the Twins flopped off the log in his excitement into deep water. Quickly the Twins passed on and soon they arrived at the familiar bend where the white birch hung, dipping its silvery leaves into the brook. Two chubby, glistening minnows closely followed by a little bit of a slim baby minnow darted out to meet the homesick Twins. They were made welcome with rejoicing and much nose-rubbing right back into the bosom of the minnow family once more. That night all the minnows rested quietly far down in the bottom of the brook just beneath the protection of a large flat stone. The whip-poor-wills came as they always did every evening to sing their lullaby songs on the top of the old rail fence near, and everything was peaceful and beautiful once more. If you tread very carefully and lightly through the long grasses bordering the brook and peer down into a certain nook perhaps you may be able to discover the entire minnow family some day. You may be sure of the very spot if you look for the old log, the grass tussock, and you may see some of the yellow-spotted turtle family sunning themselves, if you have good luck. CHAPTER V HOW PORCUPINE RIDGE WAS SETTLED