The morning dawned clear and cold. The lost children were awake at the first break of day. Their one idea was to hasten on -to find home if possible, and to do so they must bend every effort. Over trees and logs, through briars and brush, they never knew what course they took, or how far they wandered. They had not tasted food since the morning before, and had put forth exertions that would have tried the strongest man, yet they never felt hunger or weariness, so great was their excitement. They never once stopped to rest or set down to murmur.

The previous day the two had kept up a steady conversation, but to-day they pressed on in an almost unbroken silence. The forenoon passed without incident. There was the same montonous stretch of woods, the silence unbroken, save by the fall of nuts or acorns, the tread of their own feet and the dry leaves, the breaking of a dry stick now and then, which lay in their path, and the occasional barking of the dogs when they espied wild game. The sun mounted higher and higher in the sky. About noon they reached a large stream of water. As was afterward learned, this was the head waters of the Yellow River, a stream which flows into the Mississippi. A large tree had fallen across this stream, and formed a bridge, over which the boys crossed to the opposite side. They were plunging deeper and deeper into the forest, and their case now seemed hopeless indeed, for no one would suppose it possible for such children to cross so large a stream, (unless they had come upon this particular spot,) or would think of looking for them on the opposite side.

An hour or two rapid traveling, and our little wanderers began to ascend a steep ridge, covered with wild grape vines, from which the luscious fruit hung in great purple clusters. This was indeed good fortune. Never did fruit taste more delicious than did those grapes to the almost famished children. The tangled masses of vines made it difficult for the children to climb, so that although they never stopped or wasted time in their journey their appetites were well satisfied with the feast of fruit which they had gathered and ate in their ascent. But with a strange improvidence, for which it is not easy to account, they took not one of the thousands of drooping clusters with them for future use. Just over the hill the loud barking of the two dogs denoted that game of an unusual kind had been sighted. Upon nearer approach. it was found that they were barking at the foot of a tree, in the branches of which, the animal, whatever it was, had taken refuge. Curiosity led the boys to approach and upon getting a good view they knew the animal to be a large lynx, one of the most dangerous animals of the forest.

Willie cautioned his younger brother not go too near, lest the lynx should spring down upon him, but with the fearlessness of his boy-nature, he himself went directly to the foot of the tree for a closer view. The fierce animal, was, however, to much in

timidated by the dogs to venture an attack, and thus, for the second time, did they, in a wonderful manner, escape from a dangerous encounter with wild beasts.

Not long did they linger here, for a new hope had taken possession of them, born, perhaps, as much of the refreshing fruit of which they had partaken, as of any outward surroundings, but be that as it might, they now fancied themselves on familiar ground, and thought that a short walk would soon bring them out to a neighbor's field where they had often been-so, with this thought to cheer them, they kept bravely on, and the evening shadows had again began to darken before this hope entirely forsook them.

To-night an overhanging ledge of rock was found which offered them shelter, and again the knife and flint were produced, and a fire kindled for the night. As before, the younger was blissfully forgetful of his troubles, and slept a sound, refreshing sleep. With Willie it was different-his young mind, half-bewildered and crazed though it was, was away with the home and friends, whom, perhaps, he was never to see again. Most of all did he think of his mother's anxiety concerning the fate of her lost boys. Was he never te see her again? Never to look upon her dear face or to hear her voice again? And was he to never to bring her darling Johnnie, her "pet," back to her, and to have her praise him for his manliness and his courage.

At home that mother was almost wild with grief. Once she had been found in the woods by a party of searchers, herself lost, and not knowing which way to go, but calling wildly the names of her lost children. She had been taken back and a guard left to prevent her again wandering away. To-night a mother's true instinct told her that her boys were still alive, and she was weeping and praying, as only a mother can weep and pray for her darlings. and who shall say that her prayers were not answered, and in a blind, uncertain way, still, as it seemed, in the only possible way a means of rescue was provided?

In the woods, watch-fires were kindled, and men were staying by them, but not to sleep, for many were thinking of their own little ones safe at home, and then of the little wanderers, and then every sense was alert, and every sound was noted, hoping that it might lead to a discovery of their fate. But these fires and watchers were all many miles away from the little blazing fire by the ledge of the rocks.

But it is the story of the lost children that I am to tell, so will return to them. As the younger boy lay calmly sleeping, the other was thinking thinking. All the events of the past two days passed rapidly through his mind, and he began to wonder if there was no way or plan to be devised by which all the weary way could be retraced, until home was reached. With these questions a light seemed to break in upon him, and here appears the strangest part of the story. Of course he knew, as

every boy of his age, that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. But in his bewildered state he was incapable of reasoning, and even of distinct memory. He must have remembered sometime having heard it said the sun was in the south at noonday, and the idea that took possession of his young brain was this: 'The sun is in the south and we must travel toward it to reach home.' Over and over to himself he conned this lesson:

"The sun is in the south, and we must travel toward it if we would reach home.'

As certain as though his mother had told him did he feel the truth of these words. Having them fully impressed upon his mind, he was calm and assured. It must have been long past midnight when he arrived at this state, but now he was content to sleep until morning, when they would set out on their homeward way. Accordingly he replenished the fire, and then laid down and was soon lost in dreamless slumber.

The sun was lighting the trees with its earlist rays when he awoke. The fire had burned low, and the air was cold and frosty. He looked at his sleeping brother, and pity made him hesitate for a moment to wake him; but not for long. Full of the hopeful thought that had filled his mind, he was eager to communicate it to his companion, so with a gentle touch he aroused him. The boy awoke from dreams of home, and looking around at the dark forest, and at the overhanging rocks, and as a realization of his present state broke in upon him, the tears filled his eyes and coursed down his cheeks.

"Don't cry," said Willie. "I have thought of a plan by which we can get home. You see the sun shining yonder? Well, the sun is always in the south, and we have been traveling from it. Now, if we go toward the sun we shall, of course, go towards home, so hurry, and let us be going, for we have no time to lose.' Johnnie was too stupefied to notice the falsity of his brother's logic, as doubtless he would have done at another time, but, nevertheless, the deprecating manner in which he received it dampened the ardor of Willie a little.

"I do not think much of your plans," said he, "and I do not believe we will ever see home or mother again.'

It was a blessed thing, as they afterwards knew, that their courage had not been destroyed by taking in the full horror of death by starvation, and fatigue in the woods, or the more blessed, because more speedy, but still terrible thought of being killed by wild beasts.

The little weary feet were soon on their way, and their little faces turned toward the rising sun. Until now, one of the boys had worn a pair of moccasins, and the other a pair of shoes, but thinking that they could travel faster without them, they were removed, and although the ground was hard and frozen, and the little feet were often torn by briers and sticks, they hastened on,

never minding the pain. Hope rose higher, as they thought at times they could recognize places they had passed the previous day. It must have been noon when they again came to a large stream, and-wonderful to tell-there was the very same tree on which they had crossed the day before. They knew it by many unmistakable marks, and if any proof were wanting, there were the prints of their own feet, and also those of the dogs on the wet sand at the further shore. They recrossed this stream with more hopeful hearts than they had carried with them to the opposite shore.

An hour or two of rapid walking, and they came to a roadthe same they had crossed on their first day out, but much farther from home. A short consultation was held, and they decided not to cross this road but to follow it--but in which direction? The sun was so nearly overhead that they scarcely knew how to follow its guidance. They however, concluded to take an easterly course. They had not traveled more than a couple of miles before they had made up their minds that they were wrong, so back over the same road pattered the little bare feet. This time they kept steadily on their course, until at last the low roof of a building met their view. This, be it remembered, was the first sight of a human habitation that had met their view for three days. An older person would have went directly to it and have sought food and rest. Not so did our young wanderers. Willie had once been at McGregor's Landing, and although McGregor was a flourishing young town, and this was only a solitary cabin, he was convinced in his own mind that he was at the former place. It seemed to him afterward, to have been a strange idea, but we have seen that neither of the boys were capable of reasoning.

"That," said he to his brother, "is McGregor's Landing. I know it because I have been there. The sun must now be about two hours high, and we are five miles from home. If we hurry, we can get there before dark.”

Johnnie offered no objections, so back over the same road, for the third time that day did they hurry.

Dusk was gathering around their path, and they were still hurrying on, Willie considerably in advance, and at times, waiting impatiently for his brother to come up, when they were met by some travelers. There were two men driving oxen, and with a wagon loaded with lumber. There were some traps for game, and a few other articles on the load-how well did the boys remember every detail in after years.

It must have been a strange sight to these men--that of two tattered, weary, and wild looking boys on this lonely road, where seldom a human face was met.

They were hurrying on without speaking, but the men stopped their teams and enquired:

"Where are you going, boys?"

"We are going home," called out Willie, without stopping or looking around.

"But are you not lost?" enquired one of the men.

"No. We have been lost, but we are going home, now." "Where do you live?" persisted the man.

"On the Goss place, and its just ahead," said Willie.

"Then you are lost, for that is seventeen miles away, and this road does not lead past there either."

Reluctant as was Willie to stop, Johnnie had halted and he was now obliged to wait for him to come up.

"When did you leave home?" was the next question.

"Three days ago; but if you will not hinder us, we will go on, and will soon be there."

"But I have told you that this road does not lead to your home. If you will go with us, we will care for you to-night, and will take you home in the morning."

To this proposition they offered a stout resistance, saying that their parents would be uneasy about them, and that it was necessary for them to reach home that night.

Just then two other men rode up on horseback, and having heard their story offered to ride on that night, and inform the boys' parents that they were found. But here they entreated to

be taken on the horses and carried home.

Seeing how unfit they were for the journey, they were answered that the horses would not carry double, and that they had best go home with the men who had the team, (they living in the cabin whose roof the two boys had seen early in the day,) and remain until morning.

Just then the sound of a horn rang out loud and clear, more than any words could have done, did that sound calm and quiet the excited children? "That is father's horn," they both cried in a breath, "and he is looking for us. Let us go to him."

But now, in a calmer state, they were ready to listen to reason. and were easily persuaded to return with the teams, while the men on horseback rode with all haste to the place where the horn was heard to sound, a distance of some three miles. They found that the boys had not been mistaken. It was their father's horn, and that father was overjoyed at the glad news the men had to to communicate. Then the firing of three guns in quick succession announced to other searchers that the children were found, and after a short time two more guns told that they were alive, this being the signal previously agreed upon. This was responded to by others. And all through the woods firing was heard, and shouts of joy as men began to gather and take their homeward way. Feeling that the weary wanderers were better for a night's rest before being taken home, they were left with the men who had taken them up, while the good news was conveyed to the anxious waiters at home.