“There they go again,” said one of the men, as once more a gun was fired.
“Forward,” cried the doctor, rousing himself from his utter despondency.
“Which way, sir?” asked Lenny.
“Any way, my lads. System is of no use here. We must trust to chance.”
“Think he can have got over into the next gully, sir?” said Lenny.
“No, no, impossible. It would take a party of strong men to cut a way through, and they would not make the clearance in a week. Forward! Open out and keep on giving a hail from time to time.”
Another signal gun for their recall was fired.
“We can’t help it,” said the doctor. “Forward, my lads. We must find them now.”
It was not until the occasional glimpses of the sky they caught told him by their altered colour that the night was close at hand, that the doctor once more halted, and then gave the order for the party to return as well as they could upon their tracks.
And now as they staggered more than walked wearily back a shot was fired every few minutes, and a short halt made to listen for a response.