One day it happened that at noon when we expected Alice with the lunch, she did not come promptly as usual, and after waiting nearly an hour over time, we both became quite anxious to know why she did not arrive. I told Mr. Millward to wait where he was, to receive her if she came, while I went back to the house with Duke to see if she was there. Hurrying along, the dog and I arrived in a little over half an hour at the house, going by the shortest cut and as rapidly as possible, running indeed part of the way where the nature of the ground permitted. As I had greatly feared, she was not there. Nothing indicated any disturbance; everything was as we had left it in the morning, and I concluded at once that she had started to come to us with the lunch, and had either lost her way in the dense growth, or had received some hurt on the road. The obvious thing to do under such circumstances was to follow up the regular path which we customarily took, and which in my haste to reach the house I had not pursued on my return, and to look for traces of her on the way.
When I came to a little glade where the candleberries grew plentifully I noted a place where I thought it possible for her to have mistaken the path. Two conspicuous bushes, separated from each other by a distance of perhaps five rods and covered with vivid scarlet blossoms in great masses, were on the opposite side of the glade. The way ran to the right hand side of the right hand bush. Now if she had taken a course to the right hand of the left hand bush, she would be travelling quite thirty degrees away from the true direction. This was brought to my mind by the circumstance that several times Miss Millward had come with these red blossoms in her hand, or decorated with them in hat or dress, probably gathered each time from the bush by the side of the route. I went over at once to the left hand bush, and found that a branch had been freshly broken off. It was probable, therefore, that here was the place of divergence from the true route. Without paying much attention at the moment, Miss Millward had doubtless been misled by this false guide, and in passing had broken off a branch of the flowers as usual.
That this surmise was correct was evidenced a few paces further along by fresh leaves and twigs of the bush which she had thrown down after securing the coveted blossoms from the branch; and finally by the branch itself partly denuded of its blossoms. But beyond this I could find no trace. Perhaps a skilled woodsman or tracker could have easily followed the trail that no doubt existed, plainly enough marked for those who could read it; but unfortunately I knew not how to read the subtle indications that are said to be so plain to those versed in that sort of writing. I then tried to start the dog on the trail by leading him to a point where I knew by inference it existed. But either he did not choose to take up the scent, was unable to do so, or did not understand what I desired of him. At any rate he made no effort to follow the trail.
I then endeavored to reason out the probable course the girl had taken, by trying to conceive myself misled in the same manner. Suppose I had diverged thirty degrees unconsciously to the left of the route, when should I discover the error and what would be my course when I did discover it? By this method of imaginative analysis I was able to follow with reasonable certainty her probable course through the forest for about forty rods, which brought me to a dense jungle all interwoven with thorny bamboo and utterly impassable. There was nothing at all like this on the true route, and at this point, if not before, and most probably at this exact place Alice Millward must have become conscious that she had lost her way. Now the thing for me to determine was, what did she next do? Most probably, finding herself lost, she at once sought to retrace her steps until she could arrive at some familiar place from which to take a fresh departure. If she had gone back to the glade she would have found the blossoming bushes and probably from thence have been able to get a correct start. It was fair to infer, therefore, that she must have missed the glade, passing it either on the right hand or the left. But if she had passed it on the right hand the angle of such a course would have speedily brought her out into the open ground from which the sea and the beach, and possibly the house and shed were visible, and she would have had no difficulty in getting home. Therefore the inference was justifiable that in endeavoring to retrace her steps, the girl had veered to the left hand; this would lead her to the heavy timber that lines the creek in that direction.
As soon as I had reached this conclusion, I started immediately to tell her father of the situation. I soon reached him and found him very anxiously waiting my coming. I told him briefly where I thought she was now probably wandering, and my reasons for the conjecture. It considerably eased his mind to be able to think she was merely lost.
It was decided that he should return to the house at once and await me there, or after getting there come back up the creek to meet us, if I should find her.
Without delay I started for the thick woods where I hoped to find the girl. As soon as I was well into the heavy timber I began to shout at intervals every few minutes, and then listen for a reply; but none came, and I wandered in and about the forest in this manner for several hours, shouting until I was so hoarse that I could scarcely be heard ten rods away. Finally, when it was almost dark, I found her far up the creek, and almost to the cleft or chasm through which I had passed on the day I discovered the plantation. She was on the bank of the creek and coming down toward me through the tangled undergrowth. I tried to call, but was so hoarse from the long continued shouting that I was not heard, and so she did not see me until we were quite near each other.
“Oh, Mr. Morgan,” she cried, with a voice full of tears, “I am so glad to find you!” Instinctively I put my arm around her and took her hand in mine.
“Let us hurry on,” she resumed, “and find poor dear father, he must have been so anxious about me.”
I told her he was waiting near the creek, or at the house for us and we would soon be there, as it was not over an hour’s walk.