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 shaggier 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.