Bobby was not nice about trifles, and his habits were such that he had no fear of taking cold.  His comfortable bed in the little black house was preferable to the cold ground, even with the primeval forest for a chamber; but circumstances alter cases, and he did not waste any vain regrets about the necessity of his position.  After finding a secluded spot in the wood, he raked the dry leaves together for a bed, and offering his simple but fervent prayer to the Great Guardian above, he lay down to rest.  The owl screamed his dismal note, and the whip-poor-will still repeated his monotonous song; but they were good company in the solitude of the dark forest.

He could not go to sleep for a time, so strange and exciting were the circumstances of his position.  He thought of a thousand things, but he could not think himself to sleep, as he was wont to do.  At last nature, worn out by fatigue and anxiety, conquered the circumstances, and he slept.

CHAPTER XIX.

IN WHICH BOBBY HAS A NARROW ESCAPE, AND GOES TO SEA WITH SAM RAY.

Nature was kind to the little pilgrim in his extremity, and kept his senses sealed in grateful slumber till the birds had sung their matin song, and the sun had risen high in the heavens.

Bobby woke with a start, and sprang to his feet.  For a moment he did not realize where he was, or remember the exciting incidents of the previous evening.  He felt refreshed by his deep slumber, and came out of it as vigorous as though he had slept in his bed at home.  Rubbing his eyes, he stared about him at the tall pines whose foliage canopied his bed, and his identity was soon restored to him.  He was Bobby Bright—­but Bobby Bright in trouble.  He was not the little merchant, but the little fugitive fleeing from the prison to which he had been doomed.

It did not take him long to make his toilet, which was the only advantage of his primitive style of lodging.  His first object was to examine his position, and ascertain in what direction he should continue his flight.  He could not go ahead, as he had intended, for the sheet of water was an impassable barrier.  Leaving the dense forest, he came to a marsh, beyond which was the wide creek he had seen in the night.  It was salt water, and he reasoned that it could not extend a great way inland.  His only course was to follow it till he found means of crossing it.

Following the direction of the creek, he kept near the margin of the wood till he came to a public road.  He had some doubts about trusting himself out of the forest, even for a single moment; so he seated himself upon a rock to argue the point.  If any one should happen to come along, he was almost sure of furnishing a clew to his future movements, if not of being immediately captured.

This was a very strong argument, but there was a stronger one upon the other side.  He had eaten nothing since dinner on the preceding day, and he began, to feel faint for the want of food.  On the other side of the creek he saw a pasture which looked as though it might afford him a few berries; and he was on the point of taking to the road, when he heard the rumbling of a wagon in the distance.