Although it was not yet noon, Ralph was as hungry as a young wolf,
for he had eaten nothing more than a dish of cold oatmeal and milk
since five o'clock that morning, and he had taken no provisions
with him. Assailed now by the pangs of a youthful, healthy, unsatisfied
appetite, he began to wonder what he could manage to "scare up" in
the form of edibles.

Near at hand was one of the numerous small springs with which these
hills abounded. It rilled up out of the earth and rocks and formed
a pool of clear water in which cress grew plentifully, furnishing
him with a welcome salad. He gathered a hatful of last autumn's
chestnuts---somewhat soggy, to be sure---and, making a small fire
of leaves and bark, he proceeded to roast these in the embers: a
tedious and unsatisfactory process at best. Having thus taken
off the edge of his hunger, he set forth upon his homeward journey
again, in a new direction.

"The next time I come up here in this neck of the woods I'll have
a pocket compass or a watch, at least," he said to himself. "It
was foolish of me to start off without one, but I've learned a
lesson today, anyhow. The trouble is, I never dreamed I'd get lost!"

He was headed directly from Pioneer Lake, as he thought, toward
the hills beyond it, and presently, as he began to climb, the
scenery grew wilder and more unfamiliar, the trees taller and
set more thickly together, the undergrowth almost impenetrable.
Still he fought on. It seemed he had never been so far in this
direction before, and after the first rush of angry despair had
passed, he felt doggedly curious to learn whither he was going,
and what landmark he would see first.