“Why! we can’t. We know our way back—perfectly.”
“Do we?”
“Right down the hill to the brink of that gorge where we saw the surveyors; then south to that water-fall. From that point there is a regular trail—you know there is, Doro!”
“Ye—es,” admitted Dorothy, doubtfully. “It sounds simple enough.”
“It’s perfectly all right,” declared Tavia, again. “Come on.”
“Well, dear, I’ll let you lead,” said Dorothy, quietly.
While they had searched about the dell, and discussed the situation, time had been flying. Already the red globe of the sun was disappearing behind a western peak.
All the sky there was shrouded in rolling clouds. The sun plunging into these wreaths of mist turned them all to gold and crimson. Such a gorgeous sunset would have transfixed the girls with delight at another time.
But, as Tavia said, this was no moment to “worship at the shrine of beauty.” “Oh, Doro! I’m thinking of Mrs. Ledger’s hot biscuit, and ham, and potato chips. Goodness! how hungry I am. Never mind the sunset.”
“I am not minding it,” Dorothy said, quietly. “But you suggested leading the way down this ‘bad eminence’ to which we were reckless enough to climb. Go on.”