“No we are not,” returned Harris; “we are going west.”
“We are going east, I tell you,” said George.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that,” said Harris, “you confuse me.”
“I don’t mind if I do,” returned George; “I would rather do that than go wrong. I tell you we are going dead east.”
“What nonsense!” retorted Harris; “there’s the sun.”
“I can see the sun,” answered George, “quite distinctly. It may be where it ought to be, according to you and Science, or it may not. All I know is, that when we were down in the village, that particular hill with that particular lump of rock upon it was due north of us. At the present moment we are facing due east.”
“You are quite right,” said Harris; “I forgot for the moment that we had turned round.”
“I should get into the habit of making a note of it, if I were you,” grumbled George; “it’s a manoeuvre that will probably occur again more than once.”
We faced about, and walked in the other direction. At the end of forty minutes’ climbing we again emerged upon an opening, and again the village lay just under our feet. On this occasion it was south of us.
“This is very extraordinary,” said Harris.