out. But nothing of the beast was to be seen.

"Maybe he went over here ahead of me, and got killed," he thought; "but I
don't think that can be, for a wolf is a good deal spryer than a boy can
be, and he wouldn't have tumbled down as I did."

Fred recollected that he had several matches about him, and he carefully
struck one upon the rock beside him. The tiny flame showed that he had
stumbled into a rocky pit. It was a dozen feet in length, some three or
four in width, and, when he stood erect, his head was level with the
surface of the ground above. In consequence, it would be a very easy
matter for him to climb out whenever he chose to do so; but above all
things he was desirous of regaining his torch. Just as the match between
his fingers burned out, he caught sight of it, lying a short distance
away.

"It's queer what became of that wolf," he said to himself, as he recovered
the precious fagot and painfully climbed up out of the pit. "Maybe he
thought I was killed, and went off to tell the rest of his friends, so
that they can all have a feast over me. I must fire up the torch as soon
as I can, for I'm likely to need it."

This did not prove a very difficult matter, on account of the fatness of
the torch, which ignited readily, and quickly spread into the same thick,
smoking flame as before. But Fred noted that it was about half burned up,
and he could not expect it to hold out many hours longer, as it had
already done good service.

"I wish I could see the wolf again," he said to himself, looking longingly
around in the darkness, "for I believe he entered the cave somewhere near