ht there came on a cold rain, drenched by which
the blanketless wanderer was forced to seek sleep in the
open wood.

Another day of fruitless wandering succeeded; another night
of unrefreshing slumber. Paths were found in the forest, but
they had been made by other feet than those of men, and if
followed would lead him deeper into the seemingly endless
wild. Roused by the new day from his chill couch, the lost
wanderer despairingly roamed on, now almost hopeless of
escape. Yet what sound was that which reached his ear? It
was the silvery tinkle of a woodland rill, which crept
onward unseen in the depths of a bushy glen. A ray of hope
shot into his breast. This descending rivulet might lead him
to the river where the hunters lay encamped. With renewed
energy he traced its course, making his way through thicket
and glen, led ever onwards by that musical sound, till he
found himself on the borders of a small lake, within which
the waters of his forest guide were lost.

This lake, he felt, must have an outlet. He circled round
it, clambering over fallen trees and forcing his way through
thorny vines, till he saw, amid roots of alder-bushes, a
streamlet flow from the lakeside. This he hopefully
followed. Not far had he gone before a dull roar met his
ears, breaking the sullen silence of the woods. It was the
sound of falling waters. He hastened forward. The wood grew
thinner. Light appeared before him. Pushing gladly onward,
he broke through the screening bushes and found himself on
the edge of an open meadow, wild animals its only tenants,
some browsing on the grass, others lurking in bushy coverts.
Yet a more gladsome sight to his eyes was the broad river,
which here rushed along in a turbulent rapid, whose roar it
was which had come to his ear in the forest glades.

He looked about him. On the rocky river-bank was a
portage-path made by Indian feet. The place seemed familiar.
A second sweeping gaze; yes, here were points he had seen
before. He was saved. Glad at heart, he camped upon the
river-brink, kindled a fire, cooked the remains of his game,
and passed that night, at least, in dreamless sleep. With
daybreak he rose, followed the river downwards, and soon saw
the smoke of the Indian camp-fires ascending in the morning
air. In a few moments he had joined his dusky friends,
greatly to their delight. They had sought him everywhere in
vain, and now chided him gently for his careless risk,
declaring that thencefo