after the restraint the boys had undergone, cramped in the canoe, and not daring to wander out of sight of their camp-fire when upon shore, there was a delicious relief in rambling through the woods. the clear, pure air that was dry and cool in the shadow of the forest, the undulating, charming scenery, the novel look that rested upon all they saw—these possessed a charm to our young friends which they hardly could have resisted, even if they had the will to do so; but when we say that after starting forth scarcely a thought of their imprudence entered their heads, it was but natural that they should find themselves led much further away than was either wise or consistent with the resolves with which they left their friends, tim and terror.

they took no notice of the direction they were following, nor of the distance they had gone, until near the middle of the afternoon howard abruptly paused and asked, with a look of alarm:

"elwood, what have we done?"

"why? what is the matter?"

"we must be a mile off from tim, and it will be dark before we can get back."

"o! i think not. you know we have walked very slowly, and we can hurry when we take it into our heads to return."

"but do you know the way?"

"certainly. don't you?"

"what course must we follow?"

elwood pointed to the northwest, which, while it was not far from their general course, was by no means the proper one by which to rejoin their companion.

"how strange!" said howard. "it seems to me that yonder is the point from which we started."

and he pointed nearly due west, just as wrong as he could possibly be.

"you are wrong," said elwood positively. "i am sure of the right way."

"we won't dispute over it," replied his companion, with some sadness, "for it is very doubtful if either of us is right."

"all we have to do then, is to hunt for the river and follow that up until we find tim sound asleep."

"yea; but how is the river to be found? to you it lies in one place, and to me in another."

"but i can prove that you are wrong, and," laughed elwood, "that i am, too, although i was never right."

"how so?"

"the sun sets in the west, and notice where it is."

howard now opened his eyes in amazement. he would have been sure that it was going down in the other part of the sky; but the proof before his eyes was irrefragable.

"it must be," he replied. "we have been 'turned round.' just as when we left the wharf at new york. i was below when the steamer came out, and so long as new york was in sight i was sure it lay in the wrong place."

"but, how bad even that makes it! we cannot reach the river before dark, and we shall not know whether we am a mile above or below where tim is sleeping."

"if we go straight for the river, i think it likely that we shall come much nearer him than that."

"it may be, but how are we to tell?"

"why, if we don't find him by night, we can fire oft our guns and call to him."

"and bring a party of the savages down upon us."

"that may be if there are any in the neighborhood, but we shall have to run the risk."

by this time the boys were fully impressed with their want of discretion and with the urgent necessity of making all haste back to the river.

"let us keep our thoughts about us," said howard, "for we have been without them long enough. now, the salinas river runs very nearly north and south, doesn't it?"

"this portion of it does."

"then we must go as nearly east as we can, and let's be off."

turning their backs upon the sun, they began retracing their steps; but they had journeyed scarce half an hour when they found themselves near a range of hills, which they were sure they had not passed through, and did not remember to have seen.

"what does this mean?" asked howard, still more alarmed. "we never have been near these."

"are they not the hills we noticed just us we were about starting?"

"they cannot be;—these are larger, have not half as much wood upon them. i tell you, elwood, there is one thing sure."

"i know what you mean."

"what is it?"

"we are lost!"

"we are lost."

"you are right. we may find tim again, but we are going to have trouble to do it."

"listen! he may call to us."

they stopped walking find held their breath, but not a sound broke the solemn stillness, save a faint, hollow roar—whether the deep murmur that is always heard in a great forest, or the sound of the distant pacific ocean they could not tell.

"no; he is asleep yet," said elwood. "if he would only wake up he would shout to us."

"thus you see, if we shoot our guns, the chances are that he will not hear it, while it may be the means of bringing to us the very ones we are so anxious to keep away."

so they concluded not to fire their rifles for the present.

"but these hills," continued howard, "they don't extend in any great direction either north or south. the question now is, shall we pass around the northern or southern end?"

"what difference will it make?"

"all the difference in the world. if tim is to the south of us, and we pass around that way, i think we shall find him without much hunting, while if we take the wrong course it will be night before we can get anywhere near him."

"i see," replied elwood. "we shall have to guess at it. but, hold!" he exclaimed, with sparkling eyes. "you go one way and i will another!"

howard shook his head.

"there is too much risk."

"not at all. the distance is short, and we can whistle to each other every few minutes. then, you know, as we shall be looking for each other, we cannot lose ourselves in these still woods. the minute i get sight of the river i can tell whether we are above or below tim."

howard would not consent at first, but his cousin set forth the advantages of the plan so eloquently that he finally agreed. arranging their signals and manner of proceeding, the boys, therefore, separated.