“Yes,” said Mark excitedly, “let’s keep on trying. Will you go one way, and I will go the other, and the one that finds the way out can cooey.”
“No,” cried Dean feverishly, “don’t let’s separate. We must keep close together.”
“Yes,” said Mark, “we must keep close together. Come on, and let’s walk quickly.”
They started off, with Mark leading, and for quite half an hour they threaded their way in and out amongst the huge pillar-like trunks, which seemed to have grown closer together and looked as though if they were left undisturbed for a few years longer they would all join together and form an impenetrable wall. Then with the darkness seeming thicker than ever, they stopped short and stood hand in hand.
“Dean,” said Mark, at last, and he looked at his cousin’s dimly-seen face, “do you know what we have been doing?”
“Yes: making it more difficult for them to find us.”
“Yes, that we have,” said Mark; “and yet it seemed so impossible, just as if after walking in we had nothing to do but to walk out again; and here we are, thoroughly lost.”
“But it only means,” said Dean, trying to speak firmly, but failing dismally, “being lost for a few hours or so, or at the worst having to stop all night.”
“Without food or water!” said Mark bitterly. “And what about the wild beasts?”
“Not a place for lions,” said Dean.