Lost on a Mountain in Maine Read Free Page B

book. 10
    â€œHenry,” I screamed, “don’t let them! Look at me ! I’m here, near a tree.” I began to cry, because Henry wouldn’t answer me. Just then, a man on a black horse rode out of the thicket on the other side of the brook. He was smiling and I thought he was going to rescue Henry, but he rode right along and disappeared. Right after him came a black automobile. I knew then what had happened. Boy, was I happy! Dad had come for me. I was so glad that I cried, and I held onto the tree and pulled myself up onto my feet and shouted, and Dad answered me. “Donn, Donn!” he shouted.
    â€œHere I am, Dad!” I yelled back. I got my legs going and started towards the brook. I went right by Henry and I must have frightened the four men, because they disappeared like smoke.
    I was pretty wise, too, because I remember fishing my dungarees and sneakers from under the old tree and taking them with me when I ran towards Dad. I waded into the water and, boy, was it cold! It made me shiver all over. I stumbled on a slippery rock and went down on my hands, and the water splashed into my face. It felt good, because my face was hot with so many blackfly bites. I got onto my feet and scrambled up the bank. Nobody was there. Henry was gone. Only the old stump stayed where it was. The automobile was gone, and though I yelled till I was hoarse, nobody answered me. Dad was gone, too. I just sat down on the ground and cried.
    I don’t know how long I sat there and cried, making my hands go up and down on my knees, but pretty soon I felt weak all over and so I stretched out on the bank and put my head on my arms. I got to thinking about Henry and the four men and I thought about them for a long time. “That’s the way people go crazy,” I said to myself. “That’s when they start to run and tear off their clothes.” Well, I wasn’t going to go crazy—not if I could help it.

    One thing kept going through my mind all the time I lay there on the bank. I learned it in Scouting and it did me a lot of good—maybe saved my life. “Keep your head and you’ll come out all right—just keep your head!” When I had made up my mind on that point I felt better. There wasn’t any Henry to help me, and there wasn’t any automobile, and Dad hadn’t called me. I was lost and that was all there was to it. It was better for me to get going and get myself out of the mess I had blundered into.
    It’s queer what funny things go through a fellow’s head in a fix like that. There were times when it seemed to me I wasn’t talking to myself at all. Instead, somebody inside of me was doing all the talking—somebody who wanted me to get out of those woods and go home to Mommy and Dad. Somebody whowould keep me from going crazy if I just listened.
    After that little rest on the bank I felt better. It wasn’t quite raining, but it was dark and misty and I felt cold and miserable. I remembered that I hadn’t said my morning prayers, so I got onto my knees and prayed. I never prayed like that before. Other mornings I hurry a little or don’t think much about what I am saying, but this morning I meant everything, and I thought of God and how He was there in the woods, and how He looked after everything, and I felt warm all inside of me and peaceful, too.
    When my prayers were over, I thought of putting on my dungarees, but they hurt my legs; so I threw them over my arm and picked up my sneakers. Christmas! Those sneakers weren’t much good to me. When I tried them on, they were so tight and hurt my feet so much, I had to take them off. I guess the rain had shrunk 11 them way down. So I tied the strings together and hung them over my arm with the dungarees. Then I went down into the brook. It was just a little brook, but it flowed pretty swiftly. As I waded into it, I recalled a Scout rule. “When lost, follow a stream down. It will