He stopped also once or twice, not to listen, but to look at the splendid country, and to think what a great land it would surely be.
He walked steadily on for miles, but the region about him remained unfamiliar.

No smoke from the little camp-fire rose among the trees, and no welcome sight of Henry or the horses came to his eyes.

For all he knew, he might be going farther from the camp at every step.

Putting aside caution, he made a trumpet of his two hands, and uttered the long, quavering cry that serves as a signal in the forest.

It came back in a somber echo from the darkening wilderness, and Paul saw, with a little shiver, that the sun was now going down behind the trees.