“All right,” said Tonio, and he led the way back into the woods.
They looked and looked for the bundle of sticks, but somehow everything seemed different.
“I’m sure it must have been right near here,” said Tonio. “I remember that black stump. I’m sure I do, because it looks like a bear sitting up on his hind legs. Don’t you remember it, Tita?”
But Tita didn’t remember it, and I’m afraid Tonio didn’t either, really, for the bundle of sticks certainly was not there. They hunted about for a long time, and at last Tonio said, “I think we’d better go back to Tonto; he may be lonesome.”
But Tonto had disappeared too! Tonio was sure he knew just where he had left him, but when they got to the place he wasn’t there, and it wasn’t the place either! It was very discouraging.
At last Tonio said, “Well, anyway, [p 114] Tonto knows the way home by himself. We’ll just let him find his own way, and we’ll go home by ourselves.”
“All right,” said Tita, and they started down the mountain-side.
They had walked quite a long way when Tita said, “I think we’re high enough up so we ought to see the lake.” But no lake was in sight in any direction.
Tita began to cry. “We-we-we’re just as lost as we can be,” she sobbed. “And you did it! You said you knew the way, and you didn’t, and now we’ll die of hunger and nobody will find us—I want to go home.”
“Hush up,” said Tonio. “Crying won’t help. We’ll keep on walking and walking and we’ll just have to come to something, some time. And there’ll be people there and they’ll tell us how to go.”