y trace across the river, on this side, and follow it up to the
ranges. Take some one with you, and, by-thebye, take your dog Rover."

They were all quickly on the alert. Sam was going to ask Jim to come
with him; but as he was putting the saddle on Widderin he felt a hand
on his arm, and, turning, saw Cecil Mayford.

"Sam Buckley," said Cecil, "let me ride with you; will you?"

"Who sooner, old friend?" answered Sam heartily: "let us come together
by all means, and if we are to go to the ranges, we had better take a
blanket a-piece, and a wedge of damper. So if you will get them from
the house, I will saddle your horse."

Chapter XXX

HOW THE CHILD WAS LOST, AND HOW HE GOT FOUND AGAIN--WHAT CECIL SAID TO
SAM WHEN THEY FOUND HIM--AND HOW IN CASTING LOTS, ALTHOUGH CECIL WON
THE LOT, HE LOST THE PRIZE.

Four or five miles up the river from Garoopna stood a solitary hut,
snug, sheltered by a lofty bare knoll, round which the great river
chafed among the boulders. Across the stream was the forest, sloping
down in pleasant glades from the mountain; and behind the hut rose the
plain four or five hundred feet over head, seeming to be held aloft by
the blue-stone columns which rose from the river side.

In this cottage resided a shepherd, his wife, and one little boy, their
son, about eight years old. A strange, wild little bush child, able to
speak articulately, but utterly without knowledge or experience of
human creatures, save of his father and mother; unable to read a line;
without religion of any sort or kind; as entire a little savage, in
fact, as you could find in the worst den in your city, morally
speaking, and yet beautiful to look on; as active as a roe, and, with
regard to natural objects, as fearless as a lion.

As yet unfit to begin labour. All the long summer he would wander about
the river bank, up and down the beautiful rock-walled paradise where he
was confined, sometimes looking eagerly across the water at the waving
forest boughs, and fancying he could see other children far up the
vistas beckoning to him to cross and play in that merry land of
shifting lights and shadows.

It grew quite into a passion with the poor little man to get across and
play there; and one day when his mother was shifting the hurdles, and
he was handing her the strips of green hide which bound them together,
he said to her,--

"Mother, what country is that across the river?"

"The forest, child."

"There's ple