They lay down to sleep. It was a dark cold night. They crept close, that they might not feel the cold so much.

Bow-Wow could not sleep: he thought every hour would be Mew-Mew's last.

But the hours passed on, and she still drew her breath in the same short way.

She was alive when the sun rose.

It had been night when they had come to this place—quite dark.

When the light came, what do you think Bow-Wow saw?

As soon as his eyes were open, and this was just as the birds began to sing, he saw, not far off, the farm-house at home.

There it was; and the sun shone on the warm tile roof, and on the old stone walls.

There it was, with the barn-yard and the stacks of hay.

Bow-Wow knew them every one.

He gave one long look, and then such a bark, that even made poor sick Mew-Mew wake.