“I can if the stars come out,” Bob replied, as he cast an anxious look overhead. “But I’m afraid it’s going to cloud up and if it does I’m not so sure.”
“Well, I don’t see how you find your way even in the daytime through this wilderness,” Rex declared. “I’d be running in circles in less than no time if I tried to find my way.”
“It’s a matter of getting used to it,” Bob said. “But you can always tell which way is north by the bark on the trees, and then of course, you can get the other points of the compass. But even so, I’ve made a circle in the woods more than once.”
Bob’s fears regarding the weather were soon realized; for, although the stars came out fairly bright as night settled down, their brightness was short lived. One by one they grew dim and went out, until finally the last one had disappeared.
“It’s no use,” Bob declared, as he watched the star which had been his guide fade from view. “I haven’t got a single thing to go by now, and it’s a clear case of hit or miss, with the odds tremendously in favor of the miss. You see,” he explained, “there are three hundred and sixty points to the compass, and, as we’ve got to hit just one of them, our chances are three hundred and fifty-nine to one. No man living could be sure of his way in this blackness.”
Bob used the word in its literal sense, for it was so dark that they could hardly see their hand before their face. To be sure they had electric torches, but in the immensity of the forest they were of little or no use in blazing a trail.
“Well, what’s to be done?” Rex asked.
“Make a camp,” Bob replied. “You see we may be very near the Carry and then again we may be still several miles away. It’s impossible to tell.”
“All right then, let’s go to it,” proposed optimistic Rex.
It was slow work in the darkness, finding wood for the fire, but after a good deal of hunting a sufficient quantity was collected and soon a cheerful blaze was lightening the gloom of the forest.