“Well,” said he, at length, “there’s no use standing here. We’re somewhere, and the best thing we can now do is to find out where we are. So come along. We’re in a place where we’ll be able to get food and shelter, at any rate.” Saying this, he started off for the nearest house, and in a short time reached it. At first no one was visible; but on knocking at the door a woman made her appearance. “We’ve lost our way in the woods,” said Bart. “Can you tell me what place this is?” The woman stared at him for a moment, and then at Pat and Solomon. Then she said,-- “This place? Why, don’t you know this place? This is Tracadie.” “Tracadie!” repeated Bart. The name was familiar to him, for he had often seen it on the map, and had often heard it mentioned. He knew it as a small settlement on the shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, though how in the world he could ever have wandered here still remained a profound mystery. Bart then informed her that one of his party had been lost in the woods, and asked her if any boy had made his appearance, or had been heard of, in the settlement. The woman shook her head. Upon this Bart asked her if they could get any one in the place to help them go off in search of their lost friend. The woman did not know, but advised them to see the priest, and offered to take them to the priest’s house. This house was not far away, and it did not take long to reach it. It was a pretty little cottage surrounded by trees, situated a little distance away from the road. Fortunately, the priest was at home. He was a wiry little man, with a benevolent face and most engaging manners. The moment he understood their errand, he insisted on giving them something to eat and drink, and refused to hear anything more until they had all satisfied their hunger. Thus, then, they found themselves once more under a roof, after their long and eventful wandering. This was the fourth day since their departure from Miramichi. The first day they had driven for some twenty miles or so, and had walked far enough to reach a point which must have been nearly thirty miles from their starting-place. The second day they had walked ten or twelve miles farther, to the little river, where they had fished. The third day they had lost themselves, and had wandered from early dawn till dusk. The fourth day they had walked since daybreak, and had reached Tracadie towards evening. The last day had been the most fatiguing of all; partly on account of the oppressiveness of the atmosphere; partly because their provisions had given out, so that they had to walk for an immense distance without any food; and partly, also, because their hopes of finding Phil had died out, leaving them in a state of deep depression. On hearing their story, the priest showed the deepest sympathy, and promised to do all that he could. “You wish,” said he, “to go back to the woods again, and take a guide?” “Yes, if we can find one.”