Still wondering, he retraced his steps along the edge of the stream, back to the spot where he had left Keno.  Imagine his dismay and consternation when he found the tie-rope broken and the pony—–­gone!

Keno had disappeared!  Had he grown restive and wandered away, or had he been stolen by some lawless prowler among the hills?

The situation, in either case, was bad enough, for the distance home was long, and Ralph was sore and aching in every limb.  Knowing a horse’s infallible instinct for going homeward, he felt no apprehension that Keno would get lost; yet he realized what a sensation the pony would make when, provided he were not stolen, he ambled into the farmyard, saddled and bridled and riderless!

“Mother’ll be scared out of her wits!” thought Ralph.  “Gee!  I wish this hadn’t happened!  I wish Keno hadn’t bolted like this!  My fault, I suppose; I ought to have tied him more firmly, but in my hurry to get the first eagle I neglected to do it!”

Removing his belt, he sat down on a flat stone in the sunlight, and stared at the ground dejectedly.

“I guess this is when little Weary Willie walks home!” he groaned.  “Confound the luck!”

Suddenly his gaze became riveted on a peculiar mark on the soft dry loam:  the imprint of a large paw like that of a cat rising hastily, he examined the ground all around the place and discovered many similar tracks.

“It’s a bobcat!” he exclaimed aloud.  “A big bobcat or a lynx!  The critter must have frightened old Keno and made him hit the trail home!  Hope I don’t meet the brute!  I’ve got only two or three cartridges left.”

Pausing only to remove his coat and shirt and to bathe the upper part of his body in the stream, he put on his garments again and set forth along the trail.  As he walked slowly through the fragrant woods, squirrels and jays chattered derisively at him overhead, and frightened rabbits dashed helter-skelter among the thickets.  He gave them not the slightest heed; his chief interest now was to get home as soon as possible and to relieve his mother from anxiety over his absence.

To hasten his arrival he resolved upon taking a short-cut through the thickest part of the forest, which, though it would eventually lead him out upon the boundary of Silas Perkins’ farm, and necessitate his crossing that surly neighbor’s property, would save at least two miles of the return journey.

Getting his bearings by the sun, in true woodsman’s fashion, he left the trail and struck off through the unblazed aisles of the wood, going onward farther and farther at a resolute pace.  The sun presently was obscured by the thick canopy of budding trees, as Ralph descended into a little hollow between two hills, and dusky shadows contended with mid-daylight.  Still the boy staggered onward, now and then faltering to rest.  His wounds gave him little pain now, though one eye was badly swollen around the cut.  But it bothered him and distracted his mind; and this was probably the reason why, in his haste and distress, he found himself growing more and more bewildered by his surroundings.  Finally he realized that he had lost his way.