“Yes, try,” said Rob; and he now took the lead, on the chance of finding the way. A quarter of an hour later, just as he was about to turn and give up, ready for lighting a fire to cook nothing, but only too glad of the chance of throwing himself down to rest, Shaddy uttered a cheery cry.
“Well done, Mr Rob, sir!” he said. “You’re right. Camp’s just ahead.”
“What! How do you know?”
“By that big, flop-branched tree, with the great supports like stays. I remember it as well as can be. Off to the right, sir, and in a quarter of an hour we shall be in the clearing.”
“Unless that’s one of thousands of trees that grow like it,” said Rob sadly, as he pressed on.
“Nay, sir, I could swear to that one, sir, dark as it is. Now, you look up in five minutes, and see if you can’t make out stars.”
Rob said nothing, but tramped on, forcing his way among trees which he only avoided now by extending his bow and striking to right and left.
Five minutes or so afterwards he cast up his eyes, but without expecting to see anything, when a flash of hope ran through him, and he shouted joyfully,—
“Stars, Shaddy, stars!” and as a grunt of satisfaction came from behind, he raised his voice to the highest pitch he could command, and roared out, “Mr Brazier I Mr Brazier! Ahoy!”
Shaddy took up the cry in stentorian tones—