A BOY LOST.
When Elwood Brandon separated from Howard Lawrence on the afternoon of
their ramble in the woods, it was with the firm intention of making all
haste around the range of hills, and there to unite with him in their
hunt for Tim.
But, like too many boys, he suffered himself to be led from the sure
path by the allurements of the false one. His example furnished a
striking moral lesson, which he will doubtless remember to the day of
his death.
When we are following the course which conscience tells us is the true
one, although it may be rough and stony, and at times most difficult to
keep, yet the knowledge of what awaits us at the end should be proof
against temptations to turn aside. Woe to him who chides the voice of
conscience and listens to that of the charmer!
Elwood had gone some distance, and was walking very rapidly, when he
came abruptly upon the opening in the rocks which has been mentioned in
another place.
"Ah! here is a shorter cut across," was his reflection as he saw it, and
not stopping to think further, he turned and walked rapidly through it.
"I will beat Howard," and he smiled at the thought. "What will he think
when he gets around to see me waiting for him? I know he will run so as
to be there first."
Thus hopeful, Elwood hurried forward, thinking only of the surprise he
would give his cousin when they met again. As he found the path taking a
most sinuous course, a dim idea came through his head that perhaps after
all he had not gained so much by "cutting across." He would have turned
back as it was but for the rapidly increasing darkness and the belief
that he must speedily emerge from the eastern side of the hills.
While walking through a narrow part of the path, he was alarmed by the
rattling of some dirt, stones and debris over his head, and before he
could retreat or advance he was stricken on the head by several pieces
with such violence that he staggered and fell to the ground.
He was not senseless, but somewhat stunned, and placed his hand on his
head to see whether it was cut. Finding no blood, he arose to his feet
and replied to the whistle of Howard, which had been ringing in his ears
for the last ten minutes.
Immediately after, he was taken with a sickness at the stomach, the
result, doubtless, of the mental shock received. Such was his faintness
and nausea that he lay down upon the ground for relief. When a boy feels
so sick--as shown also by older persons in seasickness--he generally
becomes perfectly indifferent to everything else in the world. Elwood
concluded that Howard might whistle as long as he chose, and he would
reply when he felt able. As for the gathering darkness, wild animals and
savages, what did he care for them? They could exist and get along
without his taking any trouble to think about them.
And so he lay still until his sickness diminished and was gradually
succeeded by drowsiness, which was not long in merging into slumber.
Whoever yet remembered the moment he went to sleep? Whoever lay still to
gain a few moments of slumber without obtaining far more than he
expected, and regretting it when his intellect became sharp and clear?
It was near midnight when Elwood awoke, and all was blank darkness. He
called to Howard and Tim, and not until he had felt around with his
hands, did he remember his situation. Then it all came to him.
"This is a pretty piece of business," he thought, as he arose to his
feet. "Poor Howard is half-frightened to death, and I suppose is still
hunting for me. But I don't hear him."
He listened, but all was still.
"It may be that he has grown tired, but will hear me if I call to him."
Whereupon he whistled again and again, and shouted and listened and then
repeated his signals, but there was no response. But for the intervening
hills his cry would have reached the two watchers by the river shore,
but with twice the penetrating power he still would have failed to reach
them.
"Well, the best thing I can do is to wait here until morning, and then I
can make my way back again."
His sickness was gone, but he felt somewhat chilled from lying upon the
ground with no extra covering, although the night was quite moderate, if
not really warm. The contact with the ground had made a portion of his
body cold, and the sluggish circulation prompted him to exercise.
"I hardly know whether to stay here or to go back to the woods and take
refuge in a tree. Some animals may find me here, while I shall be safe
if I am only twenty feet above ground."
The vivid recollection of the wolverines gave him this fear and finally
induced him to leave the place and seek shelter.
But at the moment of starting he was confronted by an alarming
difficulty. He found it impossible to decide upon the proper course to
follow, and could not tell with certainty which way led in or out. This
resulted from his having turned around several times in his effort to
restore warmth and circulation on awaking from his sleep. Had he not
done this the position in which he lay during slumber would have told
him the truth.
"How strange!" he reflected, vainly seeking to recover from his
bewilderment. "If I only had a little light I think I could tell, but
this is rather delicate business when I don't know whether I may go over
the rocks or not."
He leaned against the wall of the path and thought. At last he believed
he knew which way to turn, and facing backward he began to pick his way
out. This, we may say, was the right course, and had he only persevered
in it would have brought him out of the hills into the woods, restored
him to Tim and Howard a few hours later and saved him one of the most
momentous experiences of his life.
He had retreated but a few rods when he became sure he had made a
mistake and was going wrong. It seemed from his contact with the rocks
and the curious windings it made, that he had never passed over the
ground, but was advancing further into the hills.
"This will not do," he said aloud, as he paused. "I am astray and must
change about."
He did so at once, and believing, of a surety, that he was now upon the
right path he walked much faster than was prudent. The truth was, the
associations of the plate were such as to make him in a hurry to get
away from it. He knew he would feel relieved when he could get once more
into the open air of the woods. A strange fear that the overhanging rock
would fall or imprison him caused him to hasten still more. After
walking some time further he slackened his steps.
"I must be pretty near the opening, judging by the distance I have come;
and if such be the case--"
Further words were checked, for at that instant Elwood stepped off the
path and went down--down!