They both called together, but there was no response.
"I'm going to count a hundred, and if we hear nothing by then I shall walk on somewhere. It's so bitterly cold sitting still," said Mavis, who was shivering.
She counted aloud, and at the end they gave a frantic shout. Not even a bird rustled in reply. "Well here goes, there's nothing for it but a plunge," said Mavis. "I've not the glimmer of an idea which way to take."
"I shall follow my nose," said Merle, setting off.
"Don't go too fast or you'll lose me. Let me take hold of your arm. We never came this way, I'm sure. We certainly didn't pass a little stream."
"Any way is better than no way," said Merle desperately. "Hello! why there's the road!"
The relief at finding themselves back upon the track of civilization was intense. They ran joyfully along, and in a few moments came upon Uncle David, just screwing on his last nuts and whistling to himself quite unconcernedly.
"Where have you two been?" he asked.
"Where!" answered Merle with dramatic unction. "Where? Why, getting lost like the babes in the wood! We thought we were going to perish upon the moors and never see home again! We wandered on for hours. Didn't you hear us shouting?"
"Exactly twenty-five minutes," corrected Dr. Tremayne, consulting his watch. "No, I never heard you shout. I should have hooted if I had. I wondered where you were. Better not run off too far another time. Well, I've mended this tyre, and been remarkably quick over it too, I think. I'm rather proud of myself. It's a record."