Lost on a Mountain in Maine Read Free

have in a mess like that?
    However, it was not quite so cold down there in the scrub, and that made me think that farther down, it would be still warmer. Maybe I’d better change my course a little to the right and keep going down. I hunted for an opening through the scrub growth. There wasn’t any; so I just had to scramble along as best I could. That’s where I cut my sneakers to pieces. 8 I noticed now that I had to scramble through more and more of those scrubby bushes. My face was badly scratched and I was awfully tired. It was getting dark, too.
    I knew I hadn’t covered more than three or four miles. That meant that Dad and Henry couldn’t be a long way off. The camp must be right down below me in the trees. I felt a little better. What if it were hard going down to it? A fellow could make it, as long as he didn’t break a leg or something. I’d just go a little moreslowly—that’s the way a fellow figures things out. I was all wrong, of course. There wasn’t any camp below me —not for miles and miles, and there weren’t any trails where I was going.
    It’s a good thing I didn’t know any more than I did. Sometimes, not knowing the worst helps a fellow along, if he just keeps going and doesn’t lose his head.
    The trees grew taller and taller. Going was easier than at first, and the air was warmer and not quite so soaked with mist. There was no sleet. I could see a little ways ahead—just broken mountain side with bushes and trees everywhere. No use to shout now. No one could hear me. Just one thing to do—work my way down to the camp. Maybe I’d be late for bacon and beans, but what of it? Dad might be mad because I didn’t stay with Henry and the man, but he wouldn’t hold anything like that against me very long.
    Just as I was thinking over such things I slipped off a big rock and hurt myself. I lay at the base of it, kind of stunned. At last, I got on my feet again. I saw that night was falling. The woods were clearing of mist but getting dark. I knew it was raining, but where I was, the trees protected me a little, though drops kept falling and wetting my hair. I thought over what I ought to do, for a long time, then I decided to sleep right there for the night.
    Before I bedded down under a big tree, I scouted around a bit and found a small stream. I knew then I was near the foot of the mountain. I was hungry. Boy, I wished I hadn’t eaten all my raisins on the way up. A raisin would have tasted good. I was thirsty, too, so I took a drink. Then I took off my sneakers and dabbled my feet in the water, Christmas! I was surprised. Those sneakers were clashed all over.
    When my feet felt better, I got up and started towards the tree. On the way back I saw a cave. It looked deep and dry, but I was afraid of it. I picked up a rock and threw it in. I could hear it bounce, inside. Nothing happened. I thought it would be a good place to sleep in—to get out of the cold and rain, but I was afraid of some animal coming home in the night; so I passed it up and went back to that big tree. It had two roots that ran out like arms. I got a little moss together in the hollow and lay down. I curled myself up into a ball and pulled my reefer down over my legs. The dungarees bothered me. They were wet and cold and as stiff as boards; so I got up and took them off. I put them and my sneakers under an old rotted tree trunk to keep them as dry as possible.
    I said my prayers and lay down again and shut my eyes. I was more comfortable but awfully wet and cold and hungry.
    Things look different at night in the woods, especially when a fellow is alone. Maybe a First Class Scout, who had timber experience, wouldn’t mind, but I did. I listened for a long time. Some queer bird screamed in the distance. Something fell on the mountain. A frog croaked. The mosquitoes were thick, too, and I kept slapping them off my face and neck. At last, I stripped off