"Say fellows; look here!"
"See a bear?" asked Jack.
"No, but here's our old friend, the queer tree!" he called. "We're back in the same place."
Jack and John ran to where Nat stood. There was the lightning-scarred trunk. Once more they had traveled in a circle. They had not read the moss signs aright.
It was such a shock that, for a few moments, the boys did not know what to say. They had been so sure they were journeying in the right direction, that, to find they had merely gone back on their own trail, was more than discouraging.
"Thought you said you knew how to read signs, and where north was," spoke Jack, looking at John.
"Well, I thought I did," the Indian replied. "I'm sure I am right, only I think we must have made a mistake in our directions."
"Well, we're here, and what are we going to do?" asked Nat.
About them the fog swirled, lazily moving this way and that, in response to gentle puffs of wind, but never lifting enough to enable them to get a glimpse of the sun, to determine where they were, or in which direction to travel.
"Let's eat, anyhow," suggested Jack. "We'll feel better after that."