At first he felt only surprise; but soon surprise deepened into uneasiness, and uneasiness into anxiety. Where was he? In what direction was he going? What should he do if he were going wrong? Such were the thoughts that came to him. At length his anxiety grew so strong, and he became so convinced that his course was altogether wrong, that he stopped, and again tried to think how he might rectify his error. Once more he climbed a tree, but with the same result as before. The tops of other trees were all around. Nothing appeared which could act as a guide. Overhead, the smoky covering which overspread the skies shut out all traces of the sun; and when he descended to the ground, there began to dawn upon him the conviction, which grew stronger and stronger every moment, that he was actually lost! hopelessly and utterly lost! and that, too, in a trackless and uninhabited forest. His only hope was, that he had not gone very far away, but was still, if not within sight of his friends, at least within hearing. So upon this he began to do what he now knew he ought to have done before. He began to call in a loud voice after Pat, and Bart, and Solomon. After each call he stopped and listened for an answer. But no answer came, and his own calls echoed far away through the forest aisles, and it was only the mocking sound of these echoes that came to his ears. Still he thought that if he persevered long enough, some response must finally come. He thought they must be near enough to hear him, but were too intent upon their fishing to think of him, or to notice his cries. Besides, he took comfort in the thought that they had not yet missed him, and consequently would not be on the alert. His cries might be faint in their ears, and not excite any notice. The time passed, and still he kept up his cries. He called in every possible tone, and made use of every shout that his voice could compass, sometimes calling their names, sometimes uttering shrieks, and howls, and shrill yells. But all these were unavailing, and he was at last compelled to desist, from utter weariness and loss of voice. And now he noticed that it began to grow darker. At first this discovery gave him an unpleasant shock, but immediately he began to find comfort in this circumstance. “When it grows dark,” he thought, “they’ll miss me, and they’ll come to hunt me up. They’ll hear me if I call--or, better yet, they themselves will now do the shouting, and I’ll hear them.”