At first it was easy enough for the children to follow the narrow
winding path which the Sandman had pointed out, but soon they came to
a part of the wood where the underbrush grew thicker and their path
lost itself in a network of other little paths spread out as if on
purpose to confuse them. Rudolf and Ann hurried along as fast as they
could go, but it was hard work to make their way through the tangled
undergrowth where the twisted roots set traps for their feet--and
caught them, too, sometimes--while overhead the tall trees met and
mingled their branches. From these hung down great masses of trailing
vines and spreading creepers like long, lean, hairy arms stretched
out to bar their way. Rudolf had to stop now and then to hack at these
arms with his sword before he and Ann could pass through. Worst of
all--the thick growth of trees made the wood so dark that they could
not see more than a few feet ahead of them.

"Oh, Ruddy, I'm sure we're not on the right path any more," said Ann
at last. "Peter is so little--he never, never could have pushed his
way through here!"

"N-no," admitted Rudolf. "Perhaps he couldn't, but maybe he stuck to
the right path, Ann, and if he did he's there by this time."

"But I don't want him to get there!" poor Ann cried. "That would be
much worse for him than being lost. If he's just around the wood
somewhere we can find him and bring him back and then coax Sandy to
send us all home by the toboggan-slide to Aunt Jane, but if he's found
the Bad Dreams or they've found him--Oh, Ruddy, how do we know what
awful things they may be doing to him!"