The branch cracked loudly under Paul's foot. He froze, but everything was quiet. Paul breathed, "Thank you, Lord!" and went on. Soon he was on the trail to the airplane. The woods and trail were wet with rain.

"Thank you, Lord. The leaves make much less noise this way," he said inwardly.

Paul's "thank-yous" and steps both came faster and faster as he headed toward the plane. But the night was pitch black. He lost the trail and got tangled up in thick vines and bushes.

Paul groped his way back to the trail and stooped over so he could feel the path with his hands as he moved forward.

Finally Paul got to the spot where he thought the plane would be, but there was no plane! In the blackness of the night he thought he saw a house. Paul felt confused. He didn't remember a house there. Had he taken a wrong trail somehow?