“We won’t waste time over that ravine,” he said. “I noticed a wider one farther on, and we’ll see what it’s like, though Hartley led me to understand that he came down a straight and gently-sloping valley. The one we’re in answers the description.”
It was two hours before they reached the second opening, and then Vane, unstrapping his packs, clambered up the steep face of a crag. When he came back his face was thoughtful and, sitting down, he lighted his pipe.
“This search seems to take us longer than I expected,” he said. “To begin with, there are a number of inlets, all of them pretty much alike, along this part of the coast; but I needn’t go into the reasons for supposing that this is the one Hartley visited. Taking it for granted that we’re right, we’re up against another difficulty. So far as I could make out from the top of that rock, there’s a regular series of ravines running back into the hills.”
“Hartley told you he came straight down to tidewater, didn’t he?”
“That’s not much of a guide,” Vane replied. “The slope of every fissure seems to run naturally from the inland watershed to this basin. Hartley was sick, and it was raining all the time; and coming out of any of these ravines he’d only have to make a slight turn to reach the water. What’s more, he could only tell me he was heading roughly west and allowing that there was no sun visible, that might have meant either north-west or south-west, which gives us the choice of searching the hollows on either side of the main valley. Now, it strikes me as most probable that he came down the latter; but we have to face the question whether we should push straight on, or search every opening that might be called a valley?”
“What’s your idea?” Carroll rejoined.
“That we ought to go into the thing systematically and look at every ravine we come to.”
“I guess you’re right, but I don’t move another step to-night.”
“I’ve no wish to urge you. There’s hardly a joint in my body that doesn’t ache.” Vane flung down his pack and stretched himself with an air of relief. “That’s what comes of civilisation and soft living. It would be nice to sit still while somebody brought me my supper.”
As there was nobody to do so, he took up the axe and set about hewing chips off a fallen trunk, while Carroll made a fire. Then he cut the tent poles, and a few armfuls of twigs for a bed, and in half an hour the camp was pitched and a meal prepared. They afterwards lay a while, smoking and saying little, beside the sinking fire, the red light of which flickered upon the massy trunks and fell away again. Then they crawled into the tent and wrapped their blankets round them.