As it was arranged so it was carried out. They crept along under the trees.
“Hoo-hoo-hooo-o!” cried the great blue-grey birds, rising in the air on flapping wings. Bang, bang, bang! Down they came thick and fast. The sportsmen had many little mishaps, and tore their clothes considerably, but the fun was so “fine” they did not mind that much.
After about three hours of this,—
“I say,” says Rory, “isn’t it getting duskish!”
“Bless me!” cried Allan, looking at his watch, “I declare it is long past seven o’clock. Let us start for the brook at once and find our boat.”
“You mustn’t shout,” said Rory, “till you’re out of the wood.”
“We came this way, I know,” said Allan.
They went that way, but only seemed to get deeper and deeper into the forest. They tried another direction with the same result; another and another, but all to no purpose. Then they looked at each other in consternation.
“We’re lost!” cried Allan. “How could we have been so mad?”
“We can gain nothing, though,” said Rory, “by crying about it;” and down he sat.