"Forty-three." With a quick tug, Mary finished wrapping a bright red ribbon on a low-hanging branch. She reached in her pocket for the next ribbon, but her hand came up empty.
She reached in again, just in case she had missed one. But no, she was truly out of ribbons.
Her shoulders sagged and her head rolled wearily to one side. How would she mark her path now?
Worried, she looked around her. Through the lengthening shadows, she could see the stream on her left. And ahead--did the trees end at a clearing?
Maybe it was the meadow where they had picnicked! If so, Mary thought she'd be able to find her way home from there.
She picked up her skirt and ran to look.
She burst out into the clearing. Yes! It looked like their picnic place. She squinted, trying to see, but the sun had long since gone down. Was that the blanket, just beyond that bush? She ran closer to look.
Yes! Their blanket lay on the ground. And the food was still spread out over it. Well, she didn't have time to pick it up now. She had to get home. She had to get help for Sarah!
She paused to get her bearings. Which way was home? They had come here on Hudson, riding hard and fast, she remembered. And far. So far! Her shoulders sagged again.
Her legs were already tired, and it was getting so hard to see.
But she had to keep going. Which way?
"Please, God, please show me. . ." she whispered.
Turning carefully, she looked over the field. There--the tree with the bee log beneath it. And beyond that should be the tree where they had tethered Hudson. It might be that one. Or maybe that one over there with the big black shape by it?
Big black shape! Could it be?
And then the shape raised its head and whinnied. Hudson!
In an instant, Mary forgot how tired she was. She forgot her sore legs--but they didn't matter now anyway. She could ride back to camp!
With relief, she half-ran, half-skipped over to the big black horse. Then she threw her arms around him, as far as she could reach. One arm stretched across his broad chest, the other up his side to his back. She couldn't quite reach his neck, but this would have to do.
She closed her eyes and buried her face against his side.
"Thank You, God," she whispered.
After a few seconds, Mary stepped back and looked up at the big horse. He was awfully tall. And then she remembered: she had no way to get up.
"How am I ever going to get up on you?" she asked him.
Hudson looked at her calmly, then went back to grazing.
She frowned and thought about this new problem. She and Sarah had already looked for logs, in the daylight. They'd only found one, the bee log. Mary knew it wouldn't be any safer now than it was then.
But she also knew God wouldn't bring the horse back without giving her a way to ride him. She looked up.
And then she saw her answer. A low-hanging branch, right above Hudson's back. Her eyes followed the branch back to the tree trunk. Yes! An easy tree to climb. Then she could scoot off the branch onto Hudson's back.
"Stay right here!" she said, as she patted the big horse. Somehow, she knew he would.
Quickly, Mary pulled herself up the tree trunk, finding knots and small branches to step on. When she got to the right branch, she straddled it. Then she eased her way along until she was right over Hudson. Then carefully, ever so carefully, she turned around. When she got down on his back, she wanted to be facing forward. Gripping the branch, she got ready to scoot off. She wobbled a bit. It was harder to hang on this way.
She remembered Papa holding her hand before they jumped off the bridge. How she wished she could hold his hand now!
She swallowed hard, once, then, legs poised to straddle the horse, she pushed off!
Whump! Down she came, right on Hudson's back. The startled horse whinnied and sidestepped, but Mary was safe.
From her new perch on top of Hudson, things looked better. She could see the stream off to her left. Ah! Now she remembered. The stream would be her guide. And she could hear it, too! That would be good when it got too dark to see.
She clucked to the horse. "Let's go, Hudson. Let's go get Papa and Uncle James. They'll know how to help Sarah."
Obediently, he started off down the path that led beside the stream. When he broke into a trot, the ride got bumpy again.
The only way to smooth it out, she knew, was to get him to go faster. But she was awfully tired. Finally, she decided she'd lean forward against his neck.
As soon as she clucked to him, Hudson sped up. Now the ride was smoother. Mary could still hear the stream on her left. Everything was going to be . . . just . . . fine.
She awoke with a start, surrounded by blackness. Where was she? It was so dark! She sat up and shook her head to clear the confusion, and almost fell off the horse. Grabbing a handful of mane to keep steady, she tried to figure out what was happening.
Hudson neighed softly, raising his head. He stood motionless in the center of a wide, grassy open space.
Now she remembered. She was on her way back to camp. Sarah was hurt, bad, and she had to get help.
But she had been asleep! She could have fallen off! And she had no idea how long she had slept. How far had Hudson taken her?
As she scanned the darkness around her, she saw three bobbing lights, off in the distance.
Curiously, she watched them. Sometimes there were two together, one apart, and sometimes all three would go in separate directions. What would make lights move like that?
After several minutes, Mary heard something. At first, she didn't recognize it. But then, suddenly, she knew. And as soon as she knew, she began to cry.
Papa was calling her name. Those lights were lanterns!
And one of them was Papa's."Ma-ry! Ma-ry!"
And now, another voice, "Sa-rah! Sa-rah!" Uncle James was there, too!
"I'm here, Papa!" She tried to call out, but she was so tired and thirsty that her voice was just a croak.
Now they were closer. She could hear Papa calling. "Mary! Oh, speak, little one! Help me find you!"
She cleared her throat and tried again. "Papa! Papa!"
But the sounds she made were still too quiet. Nobody heard her.
In frustration, she balled up her hand in a fist and jerked it downward. The mane, still wrapped around her fingers, pulled hard on Hudson's neck. Hudson protested with a loud neigh.
Instantly, she was sorry. Hudson was such a good horse. He had led her back to camp while she slept! She hadn't meant to hurt him.
But now she heard Margaret's voice, calling out, "A horse! I heard a horse! Over there!" And the lights suddenly gathered and came straight toward her.
Before she knew it, strong hands were lifting her down and strong arms were hugging her. And Papa was saying, over and over again, "Mary. Mary. Oh, little one!"
Mary just wanted to sleep, but she couldn't. Now, finally, she could speak. Now she could tell them.
"Oh Papa! Uncle James! Margaret! Sarah. . .oh, Sarah's hurt!"
The next few moments passed in a blur. Uncle James lost no time. After hearing what was needed, he quickly got another lantern, then bridled two more horses from his wagon team. He brought saddles for all three horses. He and Margaret mounted the new horses, and Papa rode with Mary on Hudson.
Uncle James led them, holding his lantern high to light their way. The other three lanterns hung from the saddles, unlit.
"Just keep the stream on your right. You can hear it," Mary said, sleepily. "And then, when we get to the meadow, look for a blanket. That's where we'll find the first ribbon."
She turned around to look up at her father. She had to tell him.
"I used the ribbons, Papa. I hated them! But when Sarah got hurt . . ."
Her lip trembled, and she knew she was going to cry. "Oh, Papa, I needed them to help me find my way back to her! I'm so sorry."
Papa smiled tenderly, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "God knew, didn't He, little one?"
Mary nodded through her tears. "Oh yes. I'm so glad it wasn't a music box!"
It was Uncle James who spotted the blanket. Papa was on the ground in an instant, reaching up to help her down.
She stumbled a little. She was so tired! But they would need her to show them the way back to Sarah. They would need her to show them the ribbons.
Uncle James lit the other three lanterns, and gave her one of them. Mary paused to get her bearings. "The last one was over there, I'm sure," she said. She led them to the edge of the woods.
"It was red. I tied it on a branch, about this high." She held her hand up at waist-level. "It's just a little way into the woods."
She went ahead of them, holding her lantern high and searching the woods around her. At last, she spotted it, bright red, wrapped twice around its branch.
After that, they all worked together.
And as they spotted each one, they counted out loud, because Mary had told them there were forty-three."Two! A yellow one!"
"Three! Blue!"
"There's a green one! That's four."
The hunt went on. Sometimes the ribbons showed up quickly in the pale lantern light, on tree limbs or bushes along the pathway.
A few of them were more difficult, though. They looked for long minutes before they found one of the ribbons. Something--an animal or a gust of wind--had pulled it from a branch to the ground below, where it was partially hidden by leaves. Several times they headed the wrong way before doubling back and starting again.
Mary's lips tightened into a thin line. Ribbon after ribbon they pressed on. She couldn't fail Sarah now. She just couldn't!
Then finally, after what seemed like half the night, Margaret's tired voice eked out, "Yellow. Forty-three. That's the last one, Mary."
Now they stood, gathered around Mary. "Which way is she?" Uncle James asked.
Mary held her lantern high. So did everyone else. In the glow of the combined lights, she could see the ridge.
"Over there," she said, as she pointed. "Sarah is over that ridge, right by a tree."
They topped the ridge, and Mary pointed to where she'd last seen her cousin.
But there was no sign of Sarah, anywhere.
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