he sun was before me when I
started, and by keeping due east I should come somewhere near the
place."

For over an hour he plowed his way through the forest, up hill and
down, each moment expecting to see the lake for which he was searching.
His efforts, however, were all in vain, so wearied almost to the point
of exhaustion, and with clothes torn, hands and face bleeding, he was
forced to give up for the night.

Sinking upon the ground, he tried to calm the agitated state of his
mind. From the first he had realised his serious predicament, and how
difficult it would be to extricate himself from that vast wilderness.

"I can't go any farther to-night," he declared, "so I might as well
make the best of a bad affair. I have my rifle, and that's some
comfort. I needn't starve, anyway, even though I am lost."

He felt for his cartridge belt, and immediately he gave a great start
of dismay. It was not there! Then he remembered that he had taken it
off when pitching camp that night by the shore of the lake. With
trembling hands he next examined the magazine of his rifle, and found
that but three cartridges were left, as he had fired two shots in the
hope of attracting Frontier Samson's attention. This was a serious
situation, and he realised that upon those three remaining cartridges
his life depended.

CHAPTER X

ADRIFT IN THE WILDERNESS

Nowhere, perhaps, except adrift in mid-ocean, is the sense of
loneliness more appalling than to be lost in a labyrinthine forest of
the mighty north. Even upon the ocean there is always the chance of
being picked up by a passing vessel. But lost in the wilderness!
hidden from view, what hope can the stoutest heart entertain of rescue?
Here a man is but a thing of naught, an insect creeping upon the
ground, a mere speck, the veritable plaything of chance.

Reynolds, however, was well hardened to desperate situations. Often in
France he had been alone in "No Man's Land," with death close at hand.
He had never flinched then, and he was determined that he would not do
so now.

"I told Harmon that I like adventure and desperate undertakings," he
mused. "I have certainly enough here to satisfy me for a while. But
it can't be helped, and so I must make the best of it. Rest is what I
need at present, and I am not going to worry about to-morrow. 'One
thing at a time' has been my motto, and I guess it's a good one."

He awoke early the next morning, though the sun was