LITMIR.BIZ

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with the child beside him, “Snorro, why should not you and I have a peep into that dark forest?”

      “Eh?” said Snorro, who understood him not.

      “It would be great fun,” pursued Olaf. “The shade would be so pleasant in a hot day like this, and we would not go far. What does it think?”

      “Ho!” said Snorro, who thought and cared nothing at all about it, for he happened to be engaged just then in crushing a quantity of wild-flowers in his fat hands.

      “I see it is not inclined to talk much to-day. Well, come, get on my back, and we shall have just one peep—just one run into it—and then out again.”

      Error number one. Smelling forbidden fruit is the sure prelude to the eating of it!

      He took the child on his back, descended the hill, and entered the thick forest.

      The scene that met his gaze was indeed well calculated to delight a romantic boy. He found that the part of the woods immediately around him consisted of tall straight trees with thick umbrageous tops, the stems of which seemed like pillars supporting a vast roof; and through between these stems he could see a vista of smaller stems which appeared absolutely endless. There was no grass on the ground, but a species of soft moss, into which he sank ankle-deep, yet not so deep as to render walking difficult. In one direction the distance looked intensely blue, in another it was almost black, while, just before him, a long way off, there was a bright sunny spot with what appeared to be the glittering waters of a pond in the midst of it.

      The whole scene was both beautiful and strange to Olaf, and would have filled him with intense delight, if he could only have got rid of that uncomfortable feeling about its being forbidden ground! However, having fairly got into the scrape, he thought he might as well go through with it.

      Error number two. Having become impressed with the fact that he had sinned, he ought to have turned back at once. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” is about the worst motto that ever was invented. Interpreted, it means, “Having done a little mischief, I’ll shut my eyes and go crashing into all iniquity.” As well might one say, “Having burnt my finger, I’ll shove my whole body into the fire!”

      But Olaf did not take time to think. He pushed boldly forward in the direction of the lake. As he drew near he found the moss becoming softer and deeper, besides being rather wet. Going a few steps further, he found that it changed into a swamp.

      “Ho! Snorrie, this is dangerous ground,” he said, turning back; “we’ll take a round-about and try to get to the lake by a drier way.”

      He did so, but the more he diverged towards dry ground the more did the swamp force him to one side, until it compelled him to go out of sight of the pond altogether.

      “Now, isn’t that vexin’?” he said, looking about him.

      “Iss,” replied Snorro, who was becoming sleepy, and had laid his head on his friend’s shoulder.

      “Well, as we can’t get to the lake, and as this is rather a wild place, we’ll just turn back now and get out of it as fast as we can.”

      “Iss,” murmured Snorro, with a deep sigh.

      Olaf turned back and made for the edge of the wood. He was so long of coming to it that he began to be somewhat surprised, and looked about him a little more carefully, but the tall straight stems were all so much alike that they afforded him no clue to his way out of the wood. Young though he was, Olaf knew enough of woodcraft to be able to steer his course by the sun; but the sky had become clouded, and the direction of the sun could not be ascertained through the dense foliage overhead. He now became seriously alarmed. His heart beat against his ribs as if it wanted to get out, and he started off at a run in the direction in which, he felt sure, the ridge lay. Becoming tired and still more alarmed, he changed his course, eagerly advanced for a short time, hesitated, changed his course again, and finally stopped altogether, as the terrible fact flashed upon him that he was really lost in the woods. He set Snorro on the ground, and, sitting down beside him, burst into tears.

      We need scarcely say that poor Olaf was neither a timid nor an effeminate boy. It was not for himself that he thus gave way. It was the sudden opening of his eyes to the terrible consequences of his disobedience that unmanned him. His quick mind perceived at once that little Snorro would soon die of cold and hunger if he failed to find his way out of that wilderness; and when he thought of this, and of the awful misery that would thus descend on the heads of Karlsefin and Gudrid, he felt a strange desire that he himself might die there and then.

      This state of mind, however, did not last long. He soon dried his eyes and braced himself up for another effort. Snorro had gone to sleep the instant he was laid on the ground. As his luckless guide raised him he opened his eyes slightly, murmured “O’af,” and again went off to the land of Nod.

      Olaf now made a more steady and persevering effort to get out of the wood, and he was so far successful that he came to ground that was more open and broken—more like to that through which he had been accustomed to travel with the men. This encouraged him greatly, for, although he did not recognise any part of it, he believed that he must now be at all events not far distant from places that he knew. Here he again looked for the sun, but the sky had become so thickly overcast that he could not make out its position. Laying Snorro down, he climbed a tall tree, but the prospect of interminable forest which he beheld from that point of vantage did not afford him any clue to his locality. He looked for the ridge, but there were many ridges in view, any of which might have been his ridge, but none of which looked precisely like it.

      Nevertheless, the upward bound which his spirits had taken when he came to the more open country did not altogether subside. He still wandered on manfully, in the hope that he was gradually nearing home.

      At last evening approached and the light began to fade away. Olaf was now convinced that he should have to spend the night in the forest. He therefore wisely resolved, while it was yet day, to search for a suitable place whereon to encamp, instead of struggling on till he could go no farther. Fortunately the weather was warm at the time.

      Ere long he found a small hollow in a sand-bank which was perfectly dry and thickly overhung with shrubs. Into this he crept and carefully laid down his slumbering charge. Then, going out, he collected a large quantity of leaves. With these he made a couch, on which he laid Snorro and covered him well over. Lying down beside him he drew as close to the child as he could; placed his little head on his breast to keep it warm; laid his own curly pate on a piece of turf, and almost instantly fell into a profound slumber.

      The sun was up and the birds were singing long before that slumber was broken. When at last Olaf and his little charge awoke, they yawned several times and stretched themselves vigorously; opened their eyes with difficulty, and began to look round with some half-formed notions as to breakfast. Olaf was first to observe that the roof above him was a confused mass of earth and roots, instead of the customary plank ceiling and cross-beams of home.

      “Where am I?” he murmured lazily, yet with a look of sleepy curiosity.

      He was evidently puzzled, and there is no saying how long he might have lain in that condition had not a very small contented voice close beside him replied:

      “You’s here, O’af; an’ so’s me.”

      Olaf raised himself quickly on his elbow, and, looking down, observed Snorro’s large eyes gazing from out a forest of leaves in quiet satisfaction.

      “Isn’t it nice?” continued Snorro.

      “Nice!” exclaimed Olaf in a voice of despair, when the whole truth in regard to their lost condition was thus brought suddenly to his mind. “Nice! No, Snorrie, my little man, it isn’t nice. It’s dread-ful! It’s awful! It’s—but come, I must not give way like a big baby as I did yesterday. We are lost, Snorrie, lost in the woods.”

      “Lost! What’s lost?” asked Snorro, sitting up and gazing into his friend’s face with an anxious expression—not, of course, in consequence of being lost, which he did

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