They went on in this course for as much as two hours with no more success than before. They came to woods where the underbrush was so thick, and the ground so swampy, that further progress was out of the question. Here, then, they once more deliberated as to what they should do. To go back seemed inexpressibly irksome, as well as useless. It seemed better to change their course in some new direction, which might be favorable to their hopes. On the whole it now seemed best to get back to the river. Phil might be there somewhere along its banks. In the evening they could go back to their former stopping-place by ascending the course of the river. So they took up a new line of march, which seemed to be exactly at right angles with their last one, and thus went on. All this time they had been taking the utmost pains to leave a trail; but now, as they were going back to the river, it seemed no longer necessary: so they walked along much more easily and quickly, merely trying to make their pathway as straight as possible. They walked on for a long time. The river seemed much more distant than they had supposed. Still they cheered themselves with the thought, at almost every step, that the next step would bring them in sight of it. One more pause. Still the river did not appear. Another hour passed. Still no river. Nevertheless they toiled on, for having set before themselves this river as a certain place to be reached, they were not willing to stop short of it. But the farther they went, the more hopeless did their attempt seem. At length there began to come over them a vague idea that they had lost all idea of the direction of the river--that they had been wandering in a wrong direction altogether; and this vague idea grew stronger and stronger, and began to grow into a full conviction that they, as well as Phil, were utterly and hopelessly lost. IX. _Lost--Deliberations.--Trying to regain the Course.--The Smoke of the Burning.--The stagnant Air.--Onward.--An Opening in the Forest.--Hope and Enthusiasm.--A Rush forward._ LOST! Yes, Lost! Lost in the woods! It was Bart who first received this idea in its full force in his mind. He stopped abruptly, and looked all around. “Well,” said he, “it’s my opinion that we’ve been keeping this sort of thing up too long altogether. For my part, I haven’t the faintest idea in the world where we are. One thing is certain: we’re utterly astray in what we may suppose to be our reckoning; and wherever the river may be, it certainly isn’t anywhere near us. And I’m going to knock under for the present.” With these words, he flung himself down upon a knoll under a neighboring tree, threw off his bag, and pitched it away to some distance from him, and then, drawing his knees up under his chin, he sat gazing fixedly at the ground.