Every one was there, even the Snow Witches who had not been invited.
They came whirling and dancing through the forest almost as soon as the
sliding had begun. Ivra gave them glad welcome in spite of their rough
ways and stinging hair. For she, the only one of all who were there,
liked them very well and had made them her comrades often and often on
windy winter days. And they, who cared for nobody, cared for her. "She
is not like anybody," they explained it to each other. "_She is a great
little girl_."

But they would not take Ivra's sled as she wanted them to. They had not
come to spoil her fun. Instead they raced down the hill behind her or
before her, pushing and pulling, their stinging hair in her face. But
that only made her cheeks very red, and she did not mind them at all.
Then she tried sliding down on her feet, with the long line of witches
pushing from behind, their hands on each other's shoulders. That was the
best fun of all, and almost always ended in a tumble before the bottom
was reached. Though the others avoided the witches as much as they could
they admired Ivra for such hardy comrading.

Before noon every one was very hungry. Then the littlest Forest Child
said, "Follow me. The Tree Girl has gone ahead."

It was true, she had slipped away when no one noticed.

The littlest Forest Child led them away to a little valley-place where
hemlock boughs had been spread to make a floor and raised on three sides
to make a shelter. When they had come close enough for Ivra to see what
it was perched so big and white in the middle of the hemlock floor she
stopped and sighed with joy while she clasped her hands.