ally nearing home.

At last evening approached and the light began to fade away. Olaf was
now convinced that he should have to spend the night in the forest. He
therefore wisely resolved, while it was yet day, to search for a
suitable place whereon to encamp, instead of struggling on till he could
go no farther. Fortunately the weather was warm at the time.

Ere long he found a small hollow in a sand-bank which was perfectly dry
and thickly overhung with shrubs. Into this he crept and carefully laid
down his slumbering charge. Then, going out, he collected a large
quantity of leaves. With these he made a couch, on which he laid Snorro
and covered him well over. Lying down beside him he drew as close to
the child as he could; placed his little head on his breast to keep it
warm; laid his own curly pate on a piece of turf, and almost instantly
fell into a profound slumber.

The sun was up and the birds were singing long before that slumber was
broken. When at last Olaf and his little charge awoke, they yawned
several times and stretched themselves vigorously; opened their eyes
with difficulty, and began to look round with some half-formed notions
as to breakfast. Olaf was first to observe that the roof above him was
a confused mass of earth and roots, instead of the customary plank
ceiling and cross-beams of home.

"Where am I?" he murmured lazily, yet with a look of sleepy curiosity.

He was evidently puzzled, and there is no saying how long he might have
lain in that condition had not a very small contented voice close beside
him replied:

"You's here, O'af; an' so's me."

Olaf raised himself quickly on his elbow, and, looking down, observed
Snorro's large eyes gazing from out a forest of leaves in quiet
satisfaction.

"Isn't it nice?" continued Snorro.

"Nice!" exclaimed Olaf in a voice of despair, when the whole truth in
regard to their lost condition was thus brought suddenly to his mind.
"Nice! No, Snorrie, my little man, it isn't nice. It's dread-ful!
It's awful! It's--but come, I must not give way like a big baby as I
did yesterday. We are lost, Snorrie, lost in the woods."

"Lost! What's lost?" asked Snorro, sitting up and gazing into his
friend's face with an anxious expression--not, of course, in consequence
of being lost, which he did not understand, but because of Olaf's woeful
countenance.

"Oh! you can't understand it, Snorrie; and, after all, I'm a stupid
fellow to alarm you, fo