“I wonder,” thought Mollie, “if, somehow, I have struck the famous ‘Lost Man’s Trail?’ It is a lost girl’s trail all right!”
She turned this way, then that. In front of her between the sumach and the holly trees was an open space, which might lead somewhere toward home. Mollie pushed her way through. There were trees, trees, trees! No path was visible between them.
For half a mile Mollie walked on blindly, feeling sure that, at any minute, she would catch a glimpse of their familiar hillside. A sense of sinking warned her that luncheon time had passed. High overhead she could see by the sun that noon had passed.
Several times she called aloud. But Naki had warned her. This hill was entirely deserted. No one ever walked or rode over it.
“I don’t wonder,” the little girl thought, with a lump in her throat. “No one except myself would be such a goose as to try to find her way about up here, or be silly enough to go on a ghost hunt.”
She called again. “Hello! hello! I am lost! Is anyone near?” There was no answer. Once Mollie thought she heard a strange sound, half-wild, half-human, and called more loudly. This time there was no reply.
After several hours of walking, Mollie found her way out of the woods. As she came again to an open hilltop she thought she could see the smoke curling out of the chimney of their little, brown cabin, but far and near, there was no familiar object. She had followed the wrong trail, and was in an entirely different part of the country. There was nothing to do but to return to the woods.
Wearily she walked back. “I am sure the girls must be looking for me,” she said, trying to revive her courage. “When I wasn’t home in time for lunch Bab would know I was lost.”
On and on, Mollie wandered. Finally, toward dusk, she found herself again in the heart of the forest where she had lost her way in the morning. She was so tired, there was nothing to do but to sit down and rest, but she had not given up. Of course, she would find her way out of this labyrinth of trees somehow. However, just for the time, she must wait.
Mollie sank down on a pile of leaves that had been blown in a heap under the shelter of a great cedar tree. It was growing cold, and the September day was closing. All morning and afternoon the little girl had wandered alone in the woods. How many miles she had traveled she did not know.