_ chubs; but Hartman, who was behind me then, came up and
saw them, so I have his evidence. He said it was a spawning bed, and I
ought to put the twenty-nine back. Who would have thought him capable of
such mean jealousy? But he cannot play his tricks on me.

About two P.M. he said we had better start.

"Why, we don't want to reach home much before dark," said I.

"No danger of it. It's much worse getting out of this than getting in.
You saw how much path there is: we can't go straight, and it's all
chance where we strike the fields. You'd better eat what you've got, and
drink all you can: there's no water between this and the road."

"Didn't you take landmarks? Look at the mountains all round."

"They are like the mountains about the Dark Tower Childe Roland came to.
I've been here twice before, and missed the way back both times. Nobody
ever got out of here without going a circuit to the right, and taking
his chances. The natives are afraid to come here: they say there are
ghosts--the ghosts of those who got lost of old, and were eaten by
bears. That's how we took so many trout. Look to your belt now, and the
straps of your basket. The last time I was here, the other fellow lost
his fish in the woods, and I made him go back and hunt them up: it was
near night before he found them, and his basket was not much heavier
than yours is now. If we should have to camp out, we can build a fire,
cook some of the fish, and probably avoid freezing: but we'd better try
to get out."

I thought so too, and supposed he was trying to scare me; but the sun
was nearly down when we saw the fields. We went four times too far,
through that beastly region of rocks and dead trees: I think our course
was mainly northwest by south-southeast. At last we got back to the
house, tired and hungry; but Jim's old housekeeper is a pretty good cook
for a native, and there is no better supper than trout that were in the
water the same day.

XXVI.

AN INTRACTABLE PATIENT.

When we were settled down to our pipes, I said, "Is this the way you
treat the friends of your youth, when they entrust life and limb to your
hospitality?"

"I give 'em the best I've got: sorry if it doesn't suit. There's no
Delmonico's round the corner, here. What's the matter with you, old
man?"

"O, it's not your housekeeping: that's all right. But why did you lead
me such a dance, and get me lost in that unconscionable doghole of a
wilderness?"

"Did you eve