Reloading his rifle, Dave set off for the spot where they had left the cowboy and the first elk. For a few minutes he followed the back trail with ease, then, almost before he was aware, he became mixed up and scarcely knew in what direction to turn.
"I suppose I might call out, or fire my rifle," he mused. "But if I do that the others may think I am in trouble."
Looking around carefully, Dave set off once more, and presently reached a spot that looked familiar. On the ground he could see footprints and these he commenced to follow. But in a few minutes he found himself in a thicket he was sure he had never seen before.
"I am mixed up, and no mistake," he murmured, his face falling. "I shouldn't have been so sure of myself at the start. It isn't so easy as one thinks to find a trail among these rocks and bushes. I guess I had better call to Todd, and to the others."
He set up a shout and waited for a reply. None came, and he shouted a second time. Then, from a distance, came a call.
"Well, I didn't think Todd was in that direction," he said to himself. "I am twisted and no mistake."
Again he started off, and this time found himself skirting a series of loose rocks of various sizes. He was going down hill and occasionally loosened a round stone with his foot and sent it crashing to a thicket of cedars below.
A hundred yards were covered when Dave heard the cry again. Now it was plainer, and it sounded a little like a call for help.
"Maybe Todd is in trouble," he mused. "Perhaps that elk got up and attacked him!" And with this thought in his mind he set off on a dog-trot in the direction of the voice he had heard.
It was dangerous among the loose stones, and once Dave went down and rolled over and over, coming pretty close to hitting his face and shooting off his rifle. As he picked himself up he heard a call quite plainly.