"It looks as though it had been made on purpose," said Tim, gazing around him in admiration.
Finally, it was broken up among the hills, after winding through every point of the compass for fully an eighth of a mile. It gradually rose from its commencement—occasionally interrupted by sharp ascents—until its termination, when they found they had reached no mean elevation.
Still the rocks rose on every hand, and shut out their view of the surrounding country, but showed them a specimen of the wild scenery produced in California. The interior of the hills was cut up by chasms, gorges and ravines, and they heard, but did not see, the rush of a small stream of water.
They stood in silence a few moments and then Howard said:
"If he is lost in here there is no need of us looking for him."
"And why not?"
"We might search till we died of old age, and never find the least trace of him."
"And might discover the poor youngster's body the first half-hour we spint in looking."
This last remark caused Howard to start off at once, fully resolved not to pause again in the search until compelled to do so.
Terror was constantly commanded to hunt for the trail of the boy, and the dog appeared to understand what was expected of him, for he was running constantly hither and thither, but never gave sign that he had found anything positive.