Determinedly, the Scouts returned the route they had come. Memory of small, almost unnoticed things, now aided them. Jack recalled a pile of dried banana plant leaves they had passed just after changing rows. War remembered seeing the rusty, broken blade of a discarded machete.
Nevertheless, a full half hour elapsed before the two Explorers finally emerged at the narrow cart road. No one was in sight.
“We’re still lost—off course, I mean,” War said in discouragement. “What do we do now that we’re back where we started?”
“Try to find a loading shed,” Jack decided. “No use chasing through the banana rows searching for our party. By this time, Hap and the fellows probably have gone back to the entrance gate.”
Uncertain which direction to go, the Scouts stood a moment in the blazing sun. Just then an empty oxen cart rattled down the road.
“Here comes our private limousine!” War chuckled. “Let’s hitch a ride.”
As the cart jogged by, the Scouts hailed the driver. He understood no English, but Jack in halting Spanish succeeded in conveying the idea that they wanted to ride to the loading shed. The workman motioned for them to climb in.
The floor of the cart was padded with the thick fiber of old banana stalks. Jack and War sat in the back, swinging their legs over the edge. The vehicle bounced along, stopping at intervals to pick up bananas.
“You reckon he understood your Spanish, Jack?” War asked as the trip dragged on. “Maybe we’ll spend the afternoon bouncing along over this road.”
“Maybe,” the other agreed philosophically. “Isn’t it better than walking?”