hour I was not only not at home, I was in a totally strange kind
of country, covered with a continuous poplar woods. I changed my
course and tried a different direction, but soon was forced to the
conclusion that (for the sixth or seventh time in my life) I was
lost.

"Dear me," I said, "this is an interesting opportunity. It comes
to me now that I once wrote an essay on 'What To Do and What Not
To Do When Lost In the Woods.' Now what in the world did I say in
it, and which were the things not to do. Yes, I remember now, these
were the pieces of advice:

"1st. 'Don't get frightened.' Well, I'm not; I am simply amused.

"2d. 'Wait for your friends to come.' Can't do that; I'm too busy;
they wouldn't appear till night.

"3d. 'If you must travel, go back to a place where you were sure
of the way.' That means back to the lake, which I know is due west
of the camp and must be west of me now."

So back I went, carefully watching the sun for guidance, and soon
realised that whenever I did not, I swung to the left. After nearly
an hour's diligent travel I did get back to the lake, and followed
my own track in the margin to the point of leaving it; then, with
a careful corrected bearing, made for camp and arrived in 40 minutes,
there to learn that on the first attempt I had swung so far to the
left that I had missed camp by half a mile, and was half a mile
beyond it before I knew I was wrong. (See map on p. 46.)