I ran deeper into the woods till I found a track which--as I judged from the sky which I saw in a clearing--took me nearly due west.

That wasn't the direction I wanted, so I bore off at right angles, and presently struck another road which I crossed in a hurry.

After that I got entangled in some confounded kind of enclosure and had to climb paling after paling of rough stakes plaited with osiers.

Then came a rise in the ground and I was on a low hill of pines which seemed to last for miles.

All the time I was going at a good pace, and before I stopped to rest I calculated I had put six miles between me and the sandpit.
My mind was getting a little more active now; for the first part of the journey I had simply staggered from impulse to impulse.