hrough his head that perhaps after
all he had not gained so much by "cutting across." He would have turned
back as it was but for the rapidly increasing darkness and the belief
that he must speedily emerge from the eastern side of the hills.

While walking through a narrow part of the path, he was alarmed by the
rattling of some dirt, stones and debris over his head, and before he
could retreat or advance he was stricken on the head by several pieces
with such violence that he staggered and fell to the ground.

He was not senseless, but somewhat stunned, and placed his hand on his
head to see whether it was cut. Finding no blood, he arose to his feet
and replied to the whistle of Howard, which had been ringing in his ears
for the last ten minutes.

Immediately after, he was taken with a sickness at the stomach, the
result, doubtless, of the mental shock received. Such was his faintness
and nausea that he lay down upon the ground for relief. When a boy feels
so sick--as shown also by older persons in seasickness--he generally
becomes perfectly indifferent to everything else in the world. Elwood
concluded that Howard might whistle as long as he chose, and he would
reply when he felt able. As for the gathering darkness, wild animals and
savages, what did he care for them? They could exist and get along
without his taking any trouble to think about them.

And so he lay still until his sickness diminished and was gradually
succeeded by drowsiness, which was not long in merging into slumber.

Whoever yet remembered the moment he went to sleep? Whoever lay still to
gain a few moments of slumber without obtaining far more than he
expected, and regretting it when his intellect became sharp and clear?

It was near midnight when Elwood awoke, and all was blank darkness. He
called to Howard and Tim, and not until he had felt around with his
hands, did he remember his situation. Then it all came to him.

"This is a pretty piece of business," he thought, as he arose to his
feet. "Poor Howard is half-frightened to death, and I suppose is still
hunting for me. But I don't hear him."

He listened, but all was still.

"It may be that he has grown tired, but will hear me if I call to him."

Whereupon he whistled again and again, and shouted and listened and then
repeated his signals, but there was no response. But for the intervening
hills his cry would have reached the two watchers by the river shore,
but with twice the penetra