After walking fast along this for an hour or so we were going up a steepish hill when Buckley complained of feeling very tired. This was a bad start, but after resting a few minutes he was strong enough to go on and gradually got better towards the end of the night. From there onwards it was Buckley who was on the whole the stronger walker, at least he had most spare energy, which showed itself in those little extra exertions which mean so much—such as climbing a few yards down a river bank to get water for both, and being the first to suggest starting again after a rest. Of course we varied, and sometimes I and sometimes he was the stronger—and there is no doubt that between us we made much better progress than either one of us could have done alone. About 11.30 we got rather unexpectedly into a large village and had to walk boldly through the middle of it. There were one or two people about, but no one stopped or questioned us. A little later we crossed a railway which ran slightly south of west, and hesitated whether to take it on the chance of hitting a branch line leading south, but we decided to stick to the road. An hour or so later, however, the road itself turned almost due west, and we were forced to take a poor side road, which gradually developed into a track and then became more and more invisible till it lost itself and us in the heart of a pine forest. We then marched by compass, following rides which led in a south or southwest direction.
I afterwards found out by studying the map that there are no main roads or railways leading in a south or southwest direction through that bit of country. Time after time during the first five nights we were compelled to take side roads which led nowhere in particular, and we found ourselves tripping over hop-poles and wires, or in private property, or in the middle of forests. Towards 5 o'clock we were getting to the edge of this piece of forest, and lay up in a thick piece of undergrowth, and heather—a very pleasant spot, though we were rather short of water, not having found any in the forest. The day, a very hot one, passed without incident, though several carts and people passed within 25 yards of our hiding-place.
Third Night.—About 9 o'clock we were absolutely sick of lying still, and very thirsty. As the whole place seemed deserted we decided to start walking. We soon found a stream, and after quenching our thirst walked by compass and hit a main road leading slightly east of south about half a mile farther on. We found ourselves on the northeast side of a valley about a mile broad which had the appearance of a marsh or irrigation meadow covered with rank grass. On either side were hills covered with thick pine woods. The only thing to do was to go along the road, even if it did lead slightly east of south. I may say here that we badly miscalculated the distance the train had brought us north on my maps. We hoped during this third night to see on a sign-post the name of a town mentioned on the map which would tell us where we were, and for this purpose we had learnt by heart the names of all the towns and villages along the northern border of the map. It was all a question of time and food, and progress through pine forests by compass was very slow work. It was therefore essential to hit a main road going south as soon as possible, and we determined to ask our way. As we were filling our water-bottles from a rivulet at the side of the road a man and a boy came by on bicycles. I hailed them and asked what the name of the village was which we could see in the distance. They got off their bicycles and came towards us, and the man answered some name which I did not quite catch. Then he looked curiously at us and said: "Sie sind Ausländer" (You are foreigners). "No, we aren't," I said; "we are North Germans on a walking tour and have lost our way." "Sie sind Ausländer," he answered in a highly suspicious voice. Buckley said he did not care a damn what he thought, and I added that just because we did not speak his filthy Bavarian dialect he took us for foreigners, "Good evening"—and we walked off down the road. He stood looking after us, but we both had thick sticks and he could not have stopped us whatever he may have thought. We walked till we were out of sight round a bend and then, perforce, as the open valley was on our right, turned left-handed and northwards into the pine forest.
During the next hour and a half we made a huge left-handed circle, always with the fear upon us of being chased. Several times we thought we heard men and dogs after us, and in several different places we covered our tracks with pepper. It was a thoroughly unpleasant experience, but about 11.30 we felt sure we had thrown off any pursuers and determined to walk in the right direction. We should have done this before, only the valley lay right across our path. We struck a high road leading almost south, and soon afterwards found ourselves entering a village. It was a long, straggling village, and before we were half-way through dogs began to bark. We hurried on and got through without seeing any men. After a mile or two the road turned almost east, and we suddenly found ourselves on the same old spot where we had spoken to the man. We kept on down the road and avoided the next village by an awful detour through thick pine woods and over very rough country, and then hitting the road again we crossed to the southwest side of the valley and made good progress along pathways and tracks in an almost southerly direction.
At every sign-post Buckley used to stand on my shoulders, and with the help of a match read out the names and distances whilst I took them down for comparison with my map in the day time. About 2 o'clock we cut at right angles into a main road going east and west. I insisted on taking this, arguing that we had already marched too much east and that our only chance of hitting a south-leading road lay in marching west till we hit one. After a short time the road turned south and we made excellent progress till 5 o'clock, when we passed through a village in which we dared not stop to examine the sign-post, and lay up on a wooded hill on the south of it. Only one incident frightened us a good deal. It was getting towards morning when we saw a man with a gun approaching us along the road. However, he passed with a gruff "Good morning," which we answered.
We found ourselves when morning came, in an almost ideal spot for "lying up," and could sit in safety at the edge of our coppice and see the country for miles to the east of us. I was lying there studying the map, hoping, in vain as it proved, to find on it some of the names which we had taken down from sign-posts, when it suddenly occurred to me that the valley at which we were looking fitted in very well with one of the valleys on the northern edge of the map. After prolonged study we were unable to decide for certain—there were some annoying discrepancies; but "the wish is father to the thought," and we thought we were right. The next night's march would decide, anyhow. If we marched southwest through a pine forest for about an hour we would hit a road and a railway and a river all together, and then we would know where we were; and if we did not hit them, we should know we were still lost.
Fourth Night.—We started about 9.45, having learnt our lesson from the previous night, and after walking through a forest for over an hour, without coming across the desired road, river, and railway, we found ourselves falling over things like hop-poles with wires attached, and running up against private enclosures, and still in the middle of an almost trackless forest. Several times we had anxious moments with barking dogs. When we got clear of these my temper gave way and I sat down, being very tired, and cursed everything I could think of—forests, hop-poles, dogs, the roads, and Buckley. Buckley recovered himself first, telling me "not to be a fool," and we struggled on once more. From that night on we swore we would stick to the roads and have no more cross-country walking. I seem to remember that we zigzagged all over the place that night, always keeping to the roads, however, and walking fast. After midnight we came through several villages and started the dogs barking in each one. Once a man came out with a light and called after us; we said "good night" to him and pushed on, but it was most trying to the nerves. My God, how we loathed dogs! Later we came on a valley in which was a river 20 yards, or more broad. Our road passed through a village at a bridge-head, from which came sounds of revelry and lights were showing; so we turned off, and instantly got into the middle of a perfect network of hop-poles. Eventually we found a bridge lower down near an old mill. There was a road running parallel with the river on the far side, and something above it which on investigating turned out to be a railway. The question was, "Is this the valley we are looking for?" It soon turned out that it was not. The direction which the line took after we had followed it eastwards for several miles decided the question, and after going a mile out of our way back to the river to get water, we took a good road leading south. We were both very tired, and struggled on, with great difficulty and several rests, up a steep hill through the longest village I have ever seen. It seemed miles and miles, and dogs barked the whole way. The villages about here had drinking-troughs for horses at the street sides, which were a great boon to us.