In the course of the morning the steamboat drew up at a wooding station to take in a supply of fuel, and, led by curiosity, I went ashore with a lad about my own age. Growing tired of watching the negroes carrying the split wood on board, we yielded to the temptation to venture a little way into the forest. A squirrel crossed our path. We gave chase, and the frisky little animal led us on till we found ourselves out of hearing of the hissing of the steam and the voices of the negroes at the woodpile. Suddenly a bell rang; this we knew to be the signal for the steamer’s departure, and were horrified to note how faint and far-off the sound appeared. However, shouting at the top of our voices, we turned back. Through brambles and briers, thorns and thickets, climbing over fallen logs and splashing through marshy places, we scrambled and leaped. Then we distinctly heard the coughing of the steam and the dash of the paddle wheels. The boat had started! The sound grew more indistinct, and our hearts sank as we heard them rapidly die away in the distance. We thought it would be an easy thing to find the river; yet our efforts were utterly in vain. After a time, no river appearing, we realized the fact that we were lost! An hour or two passed, and we became sensible of the pangs of hunger. We searched our pockets, and discovered that one biscuit was our entire stock of provisions. This we divided and gloomily ate. An incident now occurred which showed that our position had its positive dangers. A fallen tree lay before us. Upon mounting the log, I espied, coiled in many folds, with its rattle erect in the center, a huge rattlesnake. Just as I was about to leap down, my eye caught its villainous glance. Fortunately I knew enough of serpent lore to recognize this formidable enemy, and, with a shout and gesture, prevented my companion climbing the log. Nor were we a moment too soon. The creature had evidently observed us, for, as we fled, we heard his warning rattle, and momentarily expected him to spring over the log, in pursuit. As the sun drew westward, we busied ourselves with picking out a tree suitable for camping purposes. I helped my companion to mount one, which was thick and bushy, in the branches of which he soon lay down. I stayed below to watch for a last chance. It seemed a useless thing to do; yet, though hoarse with shouting, I once more lifted up my voice. Was it a fancy that there was a reply? We could not be mistaken, for both of us heard a faint, far-off response. We waited with intense anxiety the approach of the stranger. At length a gun barrel emerged from a great bank of rushes, followed by a rough, hunter-looking man. “Who are you?” he asked. “We came ashore from the _Abeille_ at the wooding station, and have lost our way.” “Whew!” he whistled, and rested on his gun; then scanned us both narrowly, for by this time my companion had slidden down from his post among the branches.