“I think we have missed our way. If we were on the right road we would have come to some dwelling ere this. I believe we have branched off on some forest trail.”
“Let us go on, Alano. See, the rain is coming through the tree already.”
It was tough work now, for the road was uphill and the clayey ground was slippery and treacherous. It was not long before I took a tumble, and would have rolled over some sharp rocks had Alano not caught my arm. At one minute the road seemed pitch-dark, at the next a flash of lightning would nearly blind us.
Presently we gained the crest of a hill a little higher than its fellows, and gazed around us. On all sides were the waving branches of palms and other trees, dotted here and there with clearings of rocks and coarse grasses. Not a building of any kind was in sight.
“It is as I thought,” said my Cuban chum dubiously. “We have lost our way in the hills.”
“And what will we have to do—retrace our steps?” I ventured anxiously.
“I don’t know. If we push on I suppose we’ll strike some place sooner or later.”
“Yes, but our provisions won’t last forever, Alano.”
“That is true, Mark, but we’ll have to—— Oh!”