had surmounted what I took to be the first foot-hill, I came upon
a magnificent forest. A little farther on the trail walled me in with
great seamed trunks, six feet in diameter, rising a hundred feet before
spreading a single branch.

Meanwhile my mustang kept steadily up the slow-rising trail, and the
time passed. Either the grand old forest had completely bewitched me or
the sweet smell of pine had intoxicated me, for as I rode along utterly
content I entirely forgot about Dick and the trail and where I was
heading. Nor did I come to my senses until Hal snorted and stopped
before a tangled windfall.

Then I glanced down to see only the clean, brown pine-needles. There was
no trail. Perplexed and somewhat anxious, I rode back a piece, expecting
surely to cross the trail. But I did not. I went to the left and to
the right, then circled in a wide curve. No trail! The forest about me
seemed at once familiar and strange.

It was only when the long shadows began to creep under the trees that I
awoke fully to the truth.

I had missed the trail! I was lost in the forest!

IV. LOST IN THE FOREST

For a moment I was dazed. And then came panic. I ran up this ridge and
that one, I rushed to and fro over ground which looked, whatever way I
turned, exactly the same. And I kept saying, "I'm lost! I'm lost!" Not
until I dropped exhausted against a pine-tree did any other thought come
to me.

The moment that I stopped running about so aimlessly the panicky feeling
left me. I remembered that for a ranger to be lost in the forest was an
every-day affair, and the sooner I began that part of my education the
better. Then it came to me how foolish I had been to get alarmed, when I
knew that the general slope of the forest led down to the open country.

This put an entirely different light upon the matter. I still had some
fears that I might not soon find Dick Leslie, but these I dismissed for
the present, at least. A suitable place to camp for the night must be
found. I led the mustang down into the hollows, keeping my eye sharp for
grass. Presently I came to a place that was wet and soggy at the bottom,
and, following this up for quite a way, I found plenty of grass and a
pool of clear water.

Often as I had made camp back in the woods of Pennsylvania, the doing
of it now was new. For this was not play; it was the real thing, and it
made the old camping seem tame. I took the saddle off Hal and tied him
with my lasso, mak