So the calling and answering was continued for nearly ten minutes, while the rescuing party, full of curiosity and good-will, plunged through the gathering gloom, over logs and rocks, through beds of tall ferns and banks of moss, in which they sank above their ankles, until they came at length to those whom they were seeking—two lads, one standing and calling to them, the other lying motionless, where he had fallen in a dead faint from utter exhaustion.
"You see," explained Alaric, apologetically, half sobbing with joy at finding himself once more surrounded by friendly faces, "he has been very ill, and we've had a hard day, with nothing to eat. So he gave out. I should have too, but just then I heard the sound of chopping, and knew the light was shining, and—and—" Here the poor tired lad broke down, sobbing hysterically, and trying to laugh at the same time.
"There! there, son!" exclaimed Buck Raulet, soothingly, but with a suspicious huskiness in his voice. "Brace up, and forget your troubles as quick as you can; for they're all over now, and you sha'n't go hungry much longer. But where did you say you came from?"
"The top of the mountain."
"Not down the north side?"
"Yes."
"Great Scott! you are the first that ever did it, then. How long have you been on the way?"
"I don't know exactly, but something over a month."
"The poor chap's mind is wandering," said the big man to one of his companions; "for no one ever came down the north side alive, and no one could spend a whole month doing it, anyway. I've often heard, though, that folks went crazy when they got lost in the woods."
The men took turns, two at a time, in carrying Bonny, and Buck Raulet himself assisted Alaric, until, guided by the shouts of the teamsters, they reached the point from which they had started.