After they had run on quite a way, the bushes and brambles began to be so thick they were obliged to drop into a walk, and finally to climb and crawl as best they might, for they never found the "nearer way," and the ground was covered with fallen trees and rocks, while the briers caught them sometimes as if they never meant to let go.

By-and-by the pleasant light of sunset began to fade away, and they sat down to rest on a mossy log, and looked at each other very soberly.

"I don't know which way we ought to go," said Kitty.

"No more don't I," said Ted.

"Well, then, we must stay right where we are, 'stead of trying to go on. 'Cause, don't you know, lost people always go round and round and round and never get anywhere, and just wear their shoes out, and get tired and hungry, and nobody ever can find 'em. You ain't afraid, are you, Teddy?"

"No—o!" answered Ted, with scornful emphasis; "course not! Why, it's only just camping out. We've always wanted to camp out, you know. An' it's warm, an' there's but'nuts, an'—an'—maybe we'll find a pattridge nest," and Ted looked around at the deepening shadows, and bravely winked back the two tears that had gathered in his eyes.

"You know there isn't anything in these woods that can hurt us," said Kitty, cheerfully. "Papa said there was no use for those hunters to come here last year, 'cause there's nothing bigger'n woodchucks anywhere round."

"But somebody killed a bear here the summer I was a baby," said Ted.

"Yes, but he was the last—the very last—and it's just as nice and safe here as if we's camping out in our orchard. And let's fix up a house right away. Let's play we've gone West and got some land of our own."

Then the two children went to work. They were scared a little, in spite of their brave talk, but they were soon so interested in their camp-building that they forgot their fear. First they cleared away the sticks and stones beside the log where they were sitting. Then they pulled large pieces of bark from a partly fallen tree, and leaned them against the log, making a shelter large enough for a very small sleeping-room. Over the bark they laid boughs of butternut and maple, with long sticks placed crossways to keep them in place. Then by the time they had gathered a few armfuls of dry leaves to place underneath, it was quite dusk, and too late for any more work.