THE RAMBLE.
After the restraint the boys had undergone, cramped in the canoe, and not daring to wander out of sight of their camp-fire when upon shore, there was a delicious relief in rambling through the woods. The clear, pure air that was dry and cool in the shadow of the forest, the undulating, charming scenery, the novel look that rested upon all they saw—these possessed a charm to our young friends which they hardly could have resisted, even if they had the will to do so; but when we say that after starting forth scarcely a thought of their imprudence entered their heads, it was but natural that they should find themselves led much further away than was either wise or consistent with the resolves with which they left their friends, Tim and Terror.
They took no notice of the direction they were following, nor of the distance they had gone, until near the middle of the afternoon Howard abruptly paused and asked, with a look of alarm:
"Elwood, what have we done?"
"Why? What is the matter?"
"We must be a mile off from Tim, and it will be dark before we can get back."
"O! I think not. You know we have walked very slowly, and we can hurry when we take it into our heads to return."
"But do you know the way?"
"Certainly. Don't you?"
"What course must we follow?"