“Ev’rything must have an end,” Perk told himself about this time; “an’ I kinder guess naow that ole snap sayin’ must be so; anyway, here’s hopin’ afore long naow I’ll be squintin’ at the sun apeepin’ above the rim o’ the world over yonder in the—yeah, it’s east, okay, the compass she tells it. Gettin’ sorter sleepy in the bargain; but shucks! nothin’ doin’ ’long that ere line till we’re outen the woods, an’ on ground safe’n sound agin.”
Half-past five brought a little but welcome change in the monotonous situation. Perk was duly thrilled to discover what he believed to be a dim gleam of light piercing the shrouded east, which he fondly hoped was caused by the near approach of the early dawn.
He did not mention the welcome news to his ally, fearing lest it prove to be a mere stretch of that wonderful imagination of his, such as in times past had so frequently played him the saddest of tricks—no, it would really be wiser for him to bide his time, and make sure he was not turning out to be what he would call a “false alarm.”
Despite his eager wish the faint light did not appear to increase to any extent; although Perk knew it must surely be about time for the dawn to break, if it ever meant to dispel the miserable pall of wet fog that had been like a blanket during the whole night—saving the hour or so they spent on the way before it gathered around them.
“If the tarnation thing gives me the merry ha! ha! neow, after I’ve shook hands with myself, I’ll feel like jumpin’ off, and tryin’ aout my ’chute, that aint been aired for many a blue moon. But it stands to reason there must be some sorter end to ev’ry night; an’ I’ll hold on a bit longer. Gosh amighty! what wouldn’t I give to feel jest a whiff o’ wind caressin’ my cheek when I pokes my nose outadoors—but no sech good fortune—we’re still in the soup for keeps, Jack ’nd me, wuss luck!”
Still it seemed as though his heart was set on seeing that dim line grow wider, and bringing with it fresh hopes of a change in the dull programme; judging from the way Perk continued to stare toward where he knew from the compass lay the eastern heavens.
Jack flew on, apparently quite oblivious to the wild yearnings that kept gnawing at the heart of his comrade. Thus far he had reason to believe they had continued on that circle, where fifty miles of running would fetch them back again to about where they had started to make a ring. He would fight it out on that line if it kept them going all the next day; but until they could see the ground, so as to find their bearings from certain landmarks expressly emphasized in the rude chart inherited from the missing brother of the Service, it was utterly useless to expect to get anywhere.
Some little time afterwards Perk, thinking to find out whether there could be a “whiff of fresh air” stirring outside, thrust his head from the partly open door, and sniffed eagerly.
The result was highly satisfactory, for he instantly discovered a most delightful thing—there was not only the fresh cold air to be expected at such a high altitude, possibly ten thousand feet at the time; but, in addition there came across his feverish face the sensation of a genuine breeze, blowing, as he quickly found out, directly from the south.
He could not resist keeping his head protruding, so as to make assurance doubly certain; and while thus engaged he chanced to turn and look toward the east again.