I think the Tree Mother sank down in her air-boat to look in at them and open the door wide, which they had forgotten, so they would have fresh air all night; but it was dark, and the room was shadowy, so perhaps it was only the wind.

CHAPTER IX

THE WIND HUNT

After all, Mother Helma was not there the next morning,--nor the next, nor the next. She did not come back for days and days and days. Much happened before she returned, and much happened after. I will tell you.

During the days the children roamed the forest looking for their mother.

They asked every one they could find whether he had seen her. The Tree Man, his daughter, the Bird Fairies, and the Forest Children, not one of them had seen or heard of her since she went away. But they all said with one accord that she would surely come back in her own time. It was not wise to go seeking her so. She loved them. She would return.

"Wait and be patient," they said. "Time will bring Helma."

But they were Forest People, who live long, long lives, and see far.

Eric was an Earth Child, and Ivra was not all a Forest Child. So they found it hard to be wise and wait and do nothing but trust Helma and know she would return.

So they went wandering all the day. They did not go home for meals, even, after a while, but ate with the Tree Man and his daughter or the Forest Children. Sometimes as they walked through the forest, looking all about, even up into the trees for their mother, they would suddenly burst into play. "Tag," Ivra would cry, tapping Eric on the shoulder, and away she would fly, he after her, in a race that grew merrier and merrier as it ran on. Ivra darted and twisted away when Eric thought he had her, rolling down little hills on the snow crust, climbing trees, jumping brooks until he was lucky enough to catch her by one of her pigtails at last, or s.n.a.t.c.h her flying skirt. "Tag!" Then away he sped, and the game would go on for a happy while.

But sooner or later they always stopped running, stopped laughing, and remembered why they were wandering the wood alone. Then they would call for Helma. Ivra's voice was shrill and sweet, and rang through the bare woods like a birdsong. Eric's wavered a little uncertainly, as though he doubted whether Helma knew it well enough to answer. "Helma, Helma, Helma! Ohh Helma! Helmaa-a!"

No Helma answered. Sometimes a Forest Child came running to say, "We haven't seen her yet, Ivra. But we are watching." The Bird Fairies fluttered at the call and nodded their little heads uneasily. Children's voices calling for their mother was a sad sound, and made the kindly little creatures restless. One or two of them would fly to nestle in Ivra's neck and whisper, "Give her time. Do not hurry her so. She will come back."

But the children were losing faith. They went calling, seeking and playing through the woods all the hours of daylight. At night Ivra told Eric World Stories, World Story after World Story until sleep made them forget.

The fifth morning of their search dawned blue and clear and windy.

"The Wind Creatures will be happy to-day," said Ivra when she opened her eyes and heard the wind pushing at all the windows of the house and saw the blue morning sky. "Wild Star will be circling the world."

"Why, then he will see Helma somewhere!" cried Eric.

Ivra sprang from her bed. "Eric, how splendid! We must go with him! Why didn't I think of it at the very first!"

They did not stop for breakfast, but were into their coats and ready for the day's search in a twinkling. Neither of them had bothered to undress the night before. Ivra's hair had gone unbrushed for two days. Things like that are apt to slip when one's mother is away. So her little pigtails were no longer smooth and glossy, but frowsy and loose, and the rest of her hair was ruffled until it looked something like the Bird Fairies' soft plumage. Eric's head, too, was s.h.a.ggier than ever, and a smudge from firebuilding had darkened one of his cheeks since the morning before. They had not bathed in the "bird bath" since Helma had gone away. They never seemed to have time, or else they were too sleepy.

Now they no more thought of baths than they thought of breakfast. Eric followed Ivra, who knew all the ways in the forest, to the spot where Wild Star was most likely to be, if he was to be found at all on such a windy, perfect day. They ran earnestly, never slackening to skip or play. And soon they came in sight of some giant cedar trees near the edge of the forest. There were several Wind Creatures standing there, laughing in shrill, glad voices, pointing with their arms, and flapping their purple wings. Wind Creatures are growing-up boys and girls with fairy-hearts and strong, never-tiring purple wings, remember. Wild Star was among them.

But before the children had come up to them, the Wind Creatures suddenly joined hands,--as they do just before flying,--and started running down the sloping hill that ended the forest.

For a minute Ivra was in despair. "Now they are gone for the day to circle the world, and I shall never find mother," she thought. But she did not waste any more breath running. She stopped short and lifted her voice, clear and insistent, "Wild Star! Wild Star! I need you! Don't run away. Wild Star!"

The Wind Creatures had reached the foot of the hill, running swiftly hand in hand, and their wings were already lifted for flying. But Wild Star, at the sound of Ivra's voice, leaned back suddenly on the hands he was holding, almost throwing his comrades on their faces, and breaking the line. He turned right about, swinging the others with him, and came leaping and running back.

"What is the matter, little comrade?" he asked. "What is the matter?"

"In all your flying 'round the world, Wild Star, you must have seen my mother Helma. She is lost. Oh, can't you tell us where she is?"

"Yes, of course. But I didn't know she was lost. I thought she was visiting Earth-friends."

"Truly, truly?" Ivra's eyes shone with joy, and Eric grabbed his cap from his head and threw it up in the air shouting, "Hurrah!"

"Oh, will you bring her to us right away?" Ivra begged.

Wild Star looked doubtful. "Perhaps she wouldn't want to come."

Ivra laughed merrily at that. "Then take us to her," she said, "and you will see how she wants to come when we ask her."

"Give us your hands, then!"

They held out their hands. Ivra's was grasped by Wild Star's and Eric's by another Wind Creature. With their free hands they clasped each other's. So the four started running down the hill, while the rest of the Wind Creatures flew off over their heads.

Wild Star and his comrade ran faster and faster, until Eric wondered how it was that he and Ivra were ever keeping up with them. Soon he realized that his feet were scarcely touching the ground. At the foot of the hill stood a little group of birches, and they were running right upon it. He did not see how they could either turn out or stop themselves at that speed. Almost as soon as he had seen the birches, though, they were beyond them. They had not turned out, they had jumped right over the birches, and they were much higher than Eric's head! They were running so swiftly now that only their toes ever touched the ground,--if _they_ did.

What fun it was to run like that, the wind at their backs, and the Wind Creatures drawing them strongly forward faster and faster and faster until they were really flying just above the snow.

Across white fields they skimmed,--over fences and frozen streams, bushes and banks, through orchards and meadows, on, on, on, until they came to the town.

There Ivra pulled back for a minute, and the Wind Creatures slowed down.

Eric knew why Ivra was afraid of the town. She had told him all about it while they played in the wood. Helma, her mother, was a human, but she hated the town and loved the fairies and their ways. That was why she had run away to live by herself in the wood. But Ivra was neither fairy nor human; she was both.

Now the fairies are afraid of humans because humans look right through them and do not see them. That upsets the fairies and makes them uncomfortable. Of course Helma and Eric were exceptions, for because they had no shadows in their eyes they could see them and play with them. So the fairies accepted those two as one of themselves. Ivra was different. Because she was only half fairy, any human could see her whether his eyes were shadowed or not if he would only look hard enough.

The dreadful part was that when a human did see her, he was likely not to believe in her. He would just think he was day-dreaming, and that the little girl with the soft eyes, the ash-colored pigtails, and the quick feet was just a piece of his day-dream. Not to be seen is bad enough.

But it is much worse to be seen and not believed in. That was why Ivra was afraid of the town. People saw her there and either rubbed their eyes and looked another way, or laughed.

But now she was going for her mother, and she could bear anything, even that. She did not hold back long. They ran past the canning factory, and Eric did not give a glance to it. A little girl looking out over a pile of cans saw him, however, and wondered at his warm suit of brown cloth, his leggins, sandals and the cap with wings. She remembered him in rags.

She saw Ivra too, and did not rub her eyes and think her a dream. But she did not call to any one in the factory or point, for she knew _they_ would think it a dream.

Through the crooked narrow streets, past the crooked narrow houses,--one of them Mrs. Freg's,--they sped faster than the wind! On, on, on,--up the wide avenue through the "residential section" where big houses eyed them from proud terraces,--out into the country again they raced.

There they came to a high gray stone wall, blocking their way, and stood still.

"You must climb," said Wild Star. "She is in there."

CHAPTER X

ON THE GRAY WALL

It was a very high wall that hid their mother, and at first glance it seemed impossible that they could ever climb it. But Ivra did not stop to wonder. She ran up and down, hunting for a foothold. At last she reached the end of the wall and disappeared around the corner. Eric and the Wind Creatures followed. When they came up to her she had already found a place where the stones were laid a bit unevenly, one on the other, and was half way to the top, clinging with toes and fingers.

"Bravo!" cried the Wind Creatures. Eric went up after her, often slipping back and bruising and scratching his hands and knees, but as resolute as his playmate. At last they gained the top. The Wind Creatures had flown up and were waiting for them there, sitting cross-legged with their purple wings folded down their backs.

The wall enclosed the garden of a very rich family. It was a formal garden with straight walks, trellises, fountains, benches and neat flower beds laid out in squares and circles, now piled high with blossoming snow.