ht of the previous year, which, luckily, had not affected his
water-supply.

One morning, trembling with excitement, eye and ear on the alert,--as a
high-spirited horse enters a strange pasture,--he ventured past the
junction of bush and tide-mark, and down the unknown beach beyond. He
filled his hands with the first pebbles he found, but noticing the
plentiful supply on the ground ahead of him, dropped them and went on;
there were other things to interest him. A broad stretch of undulating,
scantily wooded country reached inland from the convex beach of sand
and shells to where it met the receding line of forest and bush behind
him; and far away to his right, darting back and forth among stray
bushes and sand-hummocks, were small creatures--strange, unlike those
he knew, but in regard to which he felt curiosity rather than fear.

He traveled around the circle of beach, and noticed that the moving
creatures fled at his approach. They were wild hogs, hunted of men
since hunting began. He entered the forest about midday, and emerging,
found himself on a pebbly beach similar to his own, and facing a
continuation of the rocky wall, which, like the other end, dipped into
the lagoon and prevented further progress. He was thirsty, and found a
pool near the rocks; hungry, and he ate of nuts and berries which he
recognized. Puzzled by the reversal of perspective and the similarity
of conditions, he proceeded along the wall, dimly expecting to find his
cave. But none appeared, and, mystified,--somewhat frightened,--he
plunged into the wood, keeping close to the wall and looking sharply
about him. Like an exiled cat or a carrier-pigeon, he was making a
straight line for home, but did not know it.

His progress was slow, for boulders, stumps, and rising ground impeded
him. Darkness descended when he was but half-way home and nearly on a
level with the top of the wall. Forced to stop, he threw himself down,
exhausted, yet nervous and wakeful, as any other animal in a strange
place. But the familiar moon came out, shining through the foliage, and
this soothed him into a light slumber.

He was wakened by a sound near by that he had heard all his life at a
distance--a wild chorus of barking. It was coming his way, and he
crouched and waited, grasping a stone in each hand. The barking,
interspersed soon with wheezing squeals, grew painfully loud, and
culminated in vengeful growls, as a young pig sprang into a patch of
moonlight, wit