Perhaps he would have to remain there
until he died of hunger and thirst. Long afterwards his friends
might find his bones.
Then he thought of crying for help and gave half a dozen shouts.
But no answer came back, for nobody was in that vicinity.
Again he tried to raise himself, and by a mighty effort got up
a distance of a foot and a half. But that seemed to be the limit
and, utterly exhausted, he dropped back, gasping for breath.
"It's no use," he mused, dismally. "I'm caught in a regular vise."
Then he thought of cutting his way out of the tree and after a
long struggle managed to get at his jack-knife. But cutting in
the position he occupied was a slow process, and made his hand
ache long before he had even a hole through which he might peer.
At last he gave up the attempt and stood still, not knowing what
to do next. He felt that he was as good as buried alive. What
was to be the outcome of this perilous adventure?
CHAPTER XIII
LOST IN THE WOODS
Snap had fairly good luck while on the hunt. He shot half a dozen
rabbits and one of the plumpest partridges he had yet seen.
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