Once more the boys pressed forward; but, although they continued the march for quite another hour, apparently they were as far off as ever from the river, for they neither sighted water nor came within hearing distance of the object of their search.
Again they stopped and faced one another with perplexed expressions.
"I'll tell you what it is, old man—we've missed the way," said Alf.
But Bob was never ready to admit defeat of any sort.
"Nonsense," he said. "We've kept a fairly straight course."
"Or thought we have. To my mind, if we'd kept straight on we ought to have reached the river by this time. As it is, there is no sign of it."
"That's true. Except for being free from the brushwood, we might almost be where we started. It looks much the same—no slope or any other sign to suggest that we are nearer to the water."
"What's to be done?"
"I see nothing for it but to go back again and follow the river, as we were doing in the first place. We were fools to think of taking short cuts. The other way may have seemed longer, but it would have been a deal shorter in the long-run."
Both the boys were feeling rather fagged by this time, for their trudge had been of an exceptionally fatiguing nature. But each kept the thought to himself, and cheerfully stepped out with the intention of retracing his steps. It was a disappointment and irksome enough; yet there was no help for it, and the situation had to be faced pluckily.