And in the exuberance of his spirits careless Steve plucked off his hat and flung it aloft so adroitly that it caught in a tree and dangled there tantalizingly, quite out of his reach. However, a ball from Charles’s rifle induced it to fall.
“That is the most useful thing I have shot, Steve,” he confessed dejectedly; “and if it had been a thing of life, I should have terminated that life,” pointing to a ghastly hole in the crown of the hat.
“Don’t be so much moved, Steve,” George observed; “for you may fare worse than even the ‘Babes in the Woods.’ Poor little creatures, they died happy, at least.”
“Oh,” said Marmaduke, also delighted to think he was actually lost, “we can live very well for a few days in this magnificent old forest. We can, of course, procure all the animal food we shall need, together with roots, herbs, and berries—no, it’s too late for berries. A man can live on fish, fruit, and roots, without injury to his system; and in a few days we shall find our way out, or else be rescued by others.”
“Very good,” said Will; “but where are we to catch the fishes?”
“Oh,” Steve said promptly, “Marmaduke bases his argument on the supposition that whenever a hunter gets lost, he and a ‘pure stream,’ stocked with fish, presently fall into each other’s arms.”
“Speaking of rescue,” said Charles, “many a poor lost hunter is rescued from his sufferings by wild beasts that devour him.”
“It is sheer nonsense to talk of becoming lost here,” Will declared dogmatically, “because this forest is not extensive enough for any sensible man to remain lost in it for any great length of time. I see daylight to the north, now; though where we are is more, I must acknowledge, than I can tell.”
“My compass persists that that light comes from the west,” Stephen soon said; “but of course, Will, you are too sensible a man to get lost or make such a mistake, therefore my compass has become demoralized.”
Will took out his compass, looked at it very hard, and then pocketed it with a sigh.