The one thing that troubled them was the knowledge that the guide would worry. They knew that with the closing of day and rising of the storm his anxiety would increase. They were fearful that their failure to appear by the time darkness descended might cause him to venture forth in search of them. If he should, they realized full well the hardships he would have to endure. It was still some time to twilight, and they were a bit undecided as to just what to do.
“He couldn’t reach us before dark, anyway,” declared Ed.
“I know; but I think we ought to shoot, just to let him know we are all right,” George argued.
“But that signal really means that we are all wrong, and it would make him come to us as soon as possible. Besides, I don’t think he could hear us in all this wind. We are all right here till morning, and then, if we can’t find our way out and the storm continues, we’ll signal.”
“Well, all right,” said George, “only remember, we have no blankets, and it’s going to be mighty cold before daylight.” And he rose to replenish the fire.
“We can take turns at sleeping. The one on watch will have to keep up a big blaze, and we can huddle close to it and pass the night without freezing,” said Ed.
They sat in the protection of their lean-to while the twilight stole slowly into the swamp and the storm raged with unabated fury. As it became darker the fire illuminated and warmed the little shelter behind it, and the boys began to understand why Ben always spoke so affectionately of his camp-fires. The fire was the one thing of cheer and light and life in all that black desolation of storm-rent wilderness. Sitting in the grateful warmth of its presence, the isolated young hunters came to look upon it as a friend, an ally, and a guardian whose very presence brought hope and cheer to their downcast hearts. They got in a fresh supply of wood, which was coated with snow. But they placed it near the flames to dry out, so that it would be ready for instant use any time in the night.
At last blackness engulfed them, and the boys huddled closer to the fire and conversed in low, guarded tones. They believed that outside in the open woods the snow must be quite deep, for even in the swamp it had piled up to a depth of many inches since the storm began. They sat idly speculating as to the proper direction to take them out of the gloomy confines into which they had blundered. George declared they could tell nothing about it until they had traveled an equal distance toward every point of the compass. Then he bade Ed go to sleep while he kept watch for two hours, when he promised to wake him.
The first hour dragged slowly away, and George caught himself nodding more than once. Ed was slumbering soundly a few feet from the fire. The storm had abated, and George hoped it would soon die out. It was lonely work sitting there by the fire with no one to speak to, and the time passed tediously. He consulted his watch constantly, and was much surprised to find that what he supposed to be a long half-hour was really only ten minutes.
Suddenly he sat up straight as the same wild baying they had heard earlier in the day echoed through the woods. This time it seemed nearer at hand, and George listened anxiously for many minutes before he decided to awaken Ed. At last, convinced that the sound was actually coming closer, he reached in and grasped the sleeper by the foot.