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A PERILOUS PASSAGE.
Fred Munson was right.

In his efforts to regain the pass by which he had entered the mountains, he had gone astray, and he knew no more in what direction to turn than if he had dropped from the moon.

The sun was now well up above the horizon, and he not only had the mortification of feeling that he had lost much precious time, but that he was likely to lose much more.
With the feeling of disappointment came that of hunger, and he questioned himself as to how he was likely to obtain that with which to stave off the pangs of hunger.
"There isn't any use of staying here," he exclaimed, desperately, "unless I want to lie down and die, and I ain't quite ready for that yet.

It is pretty sure the ravine ain't straight ahead, so it must be more to one side." And, acting upon this conclusion, he made quite a change in the direction he was pursuing, moving off to the left, and encouraging himself with the fact that the pass must be somewhere, and he had only to persevere in exploring each point of the compass to reach it at last.
His route continued as precipitous and difficult as before, and it was not long before the plague of thirst became greater than that of hunger.
But he persevered, hopeful that his wearisome wandering would soon end.
"Halloa! Here I am again." This exclamation was caused by the sudden arrival upon the edge of a ravine, which, on first thought, he supposed to be the very one for which he was making.