et, and that this served almost as good a purpose as the moss itself
when thrown on the fire. The poor little girl was utterly tired out at
last, however, and when the fire seemed to be subsiding, she had yielded
to Tom's entreaties, and going into the drift-pile had laid down to
rest. Now that all their work promised to accomplish nothing, the boys
were vexed with themselves for having permitted the frail little girl to
wear herself out in so fruitless a task. This, with their
disappointment, served to make them utterly wretched.

CHAPTER XI.

IN THE WILDERNESS.

When Sam went over the cliff, he thought of poor little Judie, and Tom
and Joe, and, for their sake more than his own, took every precaution
which might give him an additional chance of life. He knew that he
should fall into the creek, and that the blow, when he struck the water,
would be a very severe one. If he could keep his horse under him all the
way, however, the animal and not he would be the chief sufferer. Fearing
that the horse would hesitate at the cliff, blunder, and throw him a
somersault, perhaps falling on him, he held the beast's head high and
urged him forward at full speed, and so, as we have seen, the horse's
back was almost level as he leaped from the top of the bank. Sam had no
saddle or stirrups in which to become entangled, and as the horse
struck the water fairly, the blow was not nearly so severe a shock to
the boy as he had expected. Both went under the water, but rising again
in a moment Sam slid off the animal's back, to give the poor fellow a
better chance of escape by swimming. Striking out boldly Sam reached the
bank and crawling up looked for his horse. The poor beast was evidently
too severely hurt to swim with ease, and so he drifted away, Sam running
along the bank, calling and encouraging him. He struck the shore at
last, and Sam examining him found that while he was stunned and bruised
no serious damage had been done.

"Poor fellow," he said, stroking the colt's head, "you cannot serve me
any further in this swamp, but you saved my life and I'm glad you're not
killed anyhow."

Then taking the bridle off, he turned the horse loose, to graze and
browse at will in the dense growth of the swamp.

Sam was feverish still, and very weak, but his anxiety to reach the root
fortress again was an overmastering impulse. He had lost his bearings in
the mad chase, and the sky was so overcast that he could make no use of
th