“We can’t cross there,” remarked Randy, when they had reached the brink of this split. “We’ll have to go back into the woods and go around.”
It was now about five o’clock in the afternoon, and the tramping and climbing had tired all of the boys, yet they set off as rapidly as possible, feeling that it would be best to make a report to Captain Dale as soon as possible.
“I wish we had some trail to go by,” remarked Randy, after they had been walking for at least half an hour. “I begin to think we are not moving in the right direction.”
“I’ve been trying to guide myself by the sun,” answered Spouter. “Just the same, I don’t believe we are headed exactly for the camp.”
“I’ve got to go a bit slower,” sighed Andy, who for once was by no means light-hearted. “Both of my feet are beginning to hurt from all that climbing over the rocks. I came pretty close to twisting my ankle this afternoon, and it has been paining ever since.”
Another half hour went by, and then, as the declining sun began to cast long shadows through the trees of the forest, the cadets looked at each other in alarm. The same thought had come into the minds of each of them.
“It looks as if we were lost,” said Randy laconically. “How about it?”
“Oh, as the Indian said, we’re not lost,” responded Andy, with a faint smile. “It’s only the camp that has gone astray.”
“This is no time for joking,” said Spouter coldly. “We’ve got to get back to camp, and do it just as fast as we can!”
“All right then, Spouter, show us the way,” answered Andy readily.