The path looked different from what it had in the morning because of the sun’s determination to call it a day. Shadows were beginning to appear and were teaming up with the trees and the brush in an effort to confuse me. And so they did. I found myself in waist-high bushes with trees all around but no longer could I see the path. I looked back in the direction I had come from but the path was no longer there. I was, quite frankly, lost. I remembered to purchase all the fishing gear I needed but I forgot to buy a compass.
I began to panic but was able to control myself. After all, if I was stuck here overnight, I did have a good supply of matches, food and knew how to build a lean-to if I had to. Time was still on my side. I had at least another two hours before it would get too dark to see.
I headed west toward the dying sun with the intention of either finding my way out or building my lean-to before dark. I carefully notched trees with my jackknife so I had reference points in the morning should I need them.
With barely a half-hour left before the sun said good-bye for another day, I came upon the remains of a dwelling nestled in a small clearing. All around it were hillocks which supported a forest of thick birches. Its sides were made of stone and, though covered with moss, seemed to be somewhat sound in structure. There had been what looked like a wooden roof but only a quarter of it remained.