“Get out! It’s the wrong direction. Come on and let’s get back. I had no idea we’d gone as far as we have.” “Nor I,” said Dick. “And what’s more I don’t believe we have!” “What do you mean?” asked Chub, anxiously. “I mean that we’ve gone by the boat.” They stopped and looked about them in the twilight. Chub thrust his cap back and rubbed his forehead reflectively. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “All I remember is that we came through a strip of woods, and it’s woods all along on this side. We’d better strike through them here and see if we can see the boat.” Much subdued they followed him between the trees and bushes. After a minute or two of slow progress they came to a narrow field. “I never saw this before,” growled Roy. “There wasn’t any field here an hour ago,” agreed Dick. “I’d just like to know,” muttered Chub, “how it got here. Someone’s been taking liberties with the landscape.” “It strikes me,” remarked Roy, “that we’re just lost.” “Well come on. The river’s down here somewhere. Once we get to that all we’ve got to do is to follow it till we find the _Jolly_--find the _Slow Poke_,” said Dick, encouragingly. “And which way shall we walk, upstream or down?” Chub inquired. Dick looked a trifle crestfallen for an instant. Then, “We can decide that when we get there,” he said. “Anyhow, don’t let’s spend the night here. I’m as hungry as a bear.” “Hungry!” muttered Chub, bitterly. “So am I! Well, come along.” They crossed the field, a particularly moist and “squashy” one, and entered more woods. By this time, although it was still light enough in the open, it was difficult to see much in the forest, and they stumbled over stumps and wandered into blackberry thickets every few steps. “A chap needs a suit of chain armor for this sort of thing,” said Roy. “‘This is the forest primeval,’” murmured Chub, picking himself out of a bush. “It’s evil, anyhow.” “Here it is,” cried Dick, who had found fewer pitfalls and had taken the lead. “Here it is!” “The boat?” asked Roy, eagerly. “No, the river.” “Oh!” they joined him and found themselves on the shore of a little cove, but it was shallower than the one they had left the boat in and was quite empty of craft. Chub sat down on a rock and sighed. “How beautiful is Nature!” he murmured. “I’ll swap my interest in it for a cup of coffee and a slice of bread,” answered Dick, morosely. “I’m going to see if I can find the boat.” “Don’t go,” begged Chub. “Sit here beside me on this downy couch and let us view the prospect o’er.” “I’ll wager we’re too far down the river,” said Roy, inattentively. “Let’s go that way. From that point there we ought to be able to see the boat.” “Lead on,” cried Chub. “We place ourselves in your hands.” They skirted the cove and reached the point, but although from there they could see several hundred yards up the shore, there was no sight of either another cove or the _Slow Poke_.