“I see nothing for it but to follow your example,” said Allan, dolefully; and down he sat also.
“What a pretty little pair of babes in the wood we make, don’t we?” continued Allan, after a pause.
“What a pity we ate all Peter’s pie, though,” says Rory; “but we won’t let down our hearts. The moon will be up ere long, but sleep here to-night we’ll have to. If we tried now to find our way we’d only be going round and round, with no more chance of finding our way than a dog has of catching his tail.”
Presently there was a whirring noise, and a great black bird, apparently as big as a Newfoundland, alighted on an adjoining tree.
“It is an eagle,” said Rory. “Down with him.”
“It’s a wild turkey,” said Allan, coming back with the spoil.
He had hardly laid it down when an immense, great, gaunt, and hungry-looking wolf seemed to start from the very earth in front of them. Rory fired, but missed.
“In case,” said Allan, “we have a visit from any more of these gentry, let us light a fire.”
This was soon done, and the blaze from the burning wood caused the gloom of the forest to close around them like a thick black pall, and, lit up by the glare of the fire, their faces and figures stood out in bold relief. It was like a picture of Rembrandt’s.
“In the morning, you know,” Allan remarked, “we will find our way out of the wood by blazing the trees.”