He knew now he was
lost in the woods; had been tramping in a circle.
The spring whirled around him; it seemed now north and now south.
His first impulse was to rush madly northwesterly, as he
understood it. He looked at all the trees for guidance. Most moss
should be on the north side. It would be so, if all trees were
perfectly straight and evenly exposed, but alas! none are so. All
lean one way or another, and by the moss he could prove any given
side to be north. He looked for the hemlock top twigs. Tradition
says they always point easterly; but now they differed among
themselves as to which was east.
Rolf got more and more worried. He was a brave boy, but grim fear
came into his mind as he realized that he was too far from camp
to be heard; the ground was too leafy for trailing him; without
help he could not get away from that awful spring. His head began
to swim, when all at once he remembered a bit of advice his guide
had given him long ago: "Don't get scared when you're lost.
Hunger don't kill the lost man, and it ain't cold that does it;
it's being afraid. Don't be afraid, and everything will come out
all right.
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