When Phil awoke the second time, he threw off his blanket and sprang to his feet in surprise. The sun was high up in the blue arch. It must be at least ten o’clock in the morning, and Bill Breakstone had not come back. The horses were on their feet and were grazing again. They were proof that nothing had disturbed the glade. But Bill Breakstone was not there. Nor had he come back and gone away again. If he had done so, he would have awakened the boy. He had been absent three or four hours, and Phil was alarmed. The boy stood up, holding his hand on the hammer of his rifle. This beautiful day, with its blue skies above and its green forest below, oppressed him. It was so still, so silent, and Bill Breakstone had vanished so utterly, just as if he had been turned into thin air by the wave of a magician’s wand! The boy was alone in the wilderness for the first time. Moreover, he felt the presence of danger, and the queer little shiver which often comes at such moments ran through his blood. But the shiver passed, and his courage rose. He had no thought of going back to the camp to report that Bill Breakstone was missing. No, he would find him himself. That was his duty to his comrade. The boy waited a little longer, standing there in the shade with his rifle ready, and eyes and ears intent. He stood thus for a quarter of an hour, scarcely moving. The brilliant sunshine poured down upon him, bringing out every line of the strong young figure, illuminating the face which was thrown a little forward, as the blue eyes, gazing intently through the undergrowth, sought some evidence of a hostile presence. Finally the eyes turned to the horses which were grazing calmly in the full circle of their long lariats. Phil decided that such calm on their part signified the absence of any enemy. If either man or beast came near they would raise their heads. Then Phil moved forward through the bushes, putting into use all his new skill and caution. The bushes closed softly behind him, and he entered a slope covered with great trees without undergrowth. His eyes could range forward several hundred yards, but he saw nothing. He advanced for a few minutes, steadily descending, and he was tempted to shout his loudest or fire off his rifle as a signal to the derelict Bill Breakstone that it was time for him to come back. But he resisted both temptations, and soon he was glad that he had done so. The slope was very gradual, and he traveled a full two miles before he came to the edge of the woods and saw before him the plain that Bill Breakstone had predicted. He took one look, and then, springing back, sank down in the covert of the bushes.