uing hoof-beats.

On, on he plunged, sometimes sprawling over roots of trees, sometimes
bruising himself against low branches or stumbling upon stones which
seemed to rise up on purpose to delay him; torn by briars and tripped
by clutching vines. But always he ran on and on, this way and that,
wherever there seemed an opening in the forest, which was continually
growing denser and more wild.

How long he wandered he did not know. The sun was high in the heavens
when at last, wholly exhausted, Gigi fell upon a bank of moss. His
weary bones ached. He was too tired to move, but lay there motionless,
and presently he fell into a troubled sleep. When he awoke with a
start, it was growing dark, and he was very hungry. He felt for the
pouch into which he had put his bits of bread and cheese, but it was
gone! He must have lost it when pushing through the bushes.

What was he to do? He knew he must find his way back to the highroad,
where he could perhaps beg a supper at some cottage. But how was he to
know which way to go? He looked up and around him in despair. He was
in the midst of the wildest kind of forest. The trees grew close
together, and there was no path, no sign that men had ever passed this
way.

Moreover, it was growing darker every minute. Already the shadows
behind the trees were black and terrible. Gigi suddenly remembered
that there were fierce animals in the forests. In those days, all over
Europe bears and wolves and many kinds of wild beasts, large and small,
wandered wherever there were trees and hiding-places; in fact, one
might meet them anywhere except in cities and towns. And sometimes in
winter, when they were very hungry, bold wolves prowled even in the
market-places.

Gigi shuddered. He dared not think of sleep, alone in this dreadful
place. He must try to find the road. Once more he crawled to his feet
and began to stagger through the darkness, groping with his hands to
ward off the branches which scratched his face and the thorns which
tore his garments into rags.

Now there began to be strange sounds in the forest. The birds had
ceased to sing, save for a chirp now and then as Gigi's passing wakened
some tired songster. But there were other noises which Gigi did not
understand, and which set his heart to knocking fearfully; the cracking
of twigs far off and near at hand; little scurries in the underbrush as
he approached; now and then the crash of something bounding thr