"Not he! he's used to them about. No, he's had an accident, I think." Peter's eyes were anxious and his voice told of a fear of some real disaster.
The dusk fell early and though only about nine o'clock, it was as dark as midnight. Clouds had obscured the stars, and only the firelight relieved the black darkness.
But after an hour's worriment and distress on the part of the three men the guide returned. He looked a little shame-faced, and was disinclined to reply to their questions.
"Come, now, Joshua, own up," directed Peter; "I see by your eyes you've been up to mischief. Out with it!"
"I—I got lost!" was the astonishing reply, and they all burst into laughter. More at the rueful countenance, however, than at the news, for it was a serious matter.
"You, a guide, lost!" exclaimed Shelby. "How did it happen?"
"Dunno. Jest somehow couldn't find the way."
"Hadn't you a compass?"
"No, sir; I got sort of turned around like,—and I went a long hike the wrong way."
Simply enough, to be sure, but apparently it was only good fortune that had made him find at last the road home to camp.