reasures that Mr Inglis looked at his watch and declared
it was time to go, for they would have to travel slowly on account of
the live specimens. One thing remained to do, and that was to fill the
great stone bottle, brought on purpose, with water for the new aquarium.

"Gluggle, gluggle--blob, blob," went the big bottle as the air rushed
out, displaced by the salt-water, till the great thing was full,
securely corked, and deposited in the car. Tom's nose-bag was taken
off, his bit replaced, the boys mounted, for they were too tired to walk
along the sands, and they began their noiseless journey homewards, where
they arrived just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the hills, and
turning everything to burnished gold.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

LOST IN THE WOODS.

"Whoo-oo-oo-oop!" sang out Philip Inglis.

"Hoop--hoop--hoop!" shouted Fred as loud as he could.

And then both stopped to listen, but not a sound could they hear
anything like a reply. There was a regular deep humming from the gnats
and flies; the twittering of a few distant birds; but with these
exceptions all was solemn silence.

The boys had been out in the woods ever since three o'clock, seeking for
eggs for the cabinet, and had been very successful; but now the sun was
setting, and the last rays were turning the sky overhead into one
glorious golden canopy; the forest shades were getting deeper, and as
Fred said, he would not have cared only it was so dreadfully quiet, and
Harry was lost; and what was worse than all was, they were lost
themselves; and this is how it fell out:

Mr Inglis had been talking about the collection of eggs they had in the
little museum, and said he would go with the boys to Beechy Wood, to see
if they could get a few more specimens; for he particularly wanted two
or three eggs rather difficult to obtain, such as the great spotted
woodpecker's, hawfinch's, and coletit's.

"Oh, do let's go to-day, Papa," said Harry, clapping his hands. "That
will be capital."

"Yes, yes, yes," said Philip.

"No; not to-day," said the Squire; "I have several business matters to
attend to in the town, so you had better play cricket in the field, and
perhaps we may start to-morrow."

Not the least disappointed of the trio was Fred, to whom the very name
of wood sounded romantic; he almost expected to find such a cave as Ali
Baba hit upon when out with his donkey, wood-cutting; or that the place
they went to would be the identical for