Roy pulled up with a puzzled expression on his face.
'Pon my Sam, I believe you're right. In that case, this is the head waters of some stream that runs out into the Straits.'
'That's my notion, and consequently we're still going plumb in the wrong direction.'
'We can't help it,' said Roy. 'It's no use trying to climb up the far side over the top of the hill.'
'Not a bit. The first thing to do is to get out of this gorge. After that we must see if we can't skirt round the base of the hill, and get back somehow.'
Roy nodded, and for some distance they continued on their uncomfortable way in silence.
'Not much more of it,' said Roy at last. 'We're getting near the mouth now.'
'And that's where our troubles are going to begin,' said Ken with a smile. 'It looks to me as if we were the best part of three miles inland.'
'Which means that we've got to get through the whole bunch of the Turks,' answered Roy. 'I say, don't you wish we'd got our whole crowd up here? We'd take the enemy in the rear and play old Harry with them.'
'No use wishing that. But I'll tell you what, Roy. If we ever do get back we'll have some useful information for the colonel.'