A Maker of History: Large Print

The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was stiff, footsore, and a little chilly. There was noman-servant arranging his bath and clothes, no pleasant smell of coffee-none of the smallluxuries to which he was accustomed. On the contrary, he had slept all night upon a bed ofbracken, with no other covering than the stiff pine needles from the tall black trees, whoserustling music had lulled him to sleep.He sat up, and remembered suddenly where he was and how he had come there. Heyawned, and was on the point of struggling to his feet when he became aware of certainchanged conditions in his surroundings. Some instinct, of simple curiosity perhaps, but offar-reaching effect, led him to crawl back into his hiding-place and watch.Last night, after many hours of painful walking, two things alone had impressed themselvesupon his consciousness: the dark illimitable forest and the double line of rails, which withthe absolute straightness of exact science had stretched behind and in front till the treetops in the far distance seemed to touch, and the rails themselves to vanish into the blackheart of the close-growing pines. For miles he had limped along the painfully rough trackwithout seeing the slightest sign of any break in the woods, or any human being. At last thedesire for sleep had overtaken him. He was a hardy young Englishman, and a night out ofdoors in the middle of June under these odorous pines presented itself merely as a notdisagreeable adventure. Five minutes after the idea had occurred to him he was asleep.