Part 14 (1/2)

”Oh, no,” replied Ned rea.s.suringly. ”We'll probably strike it before long. The only thing we can do is to follow the creek until we reach it.”

Ned's words were far from expressing what was really in his mind. He knew that the camp might be very close in a straight line, and yet miles away by the tortuous windings of the creek. And the latter was the only possible course to take. If they attempted the former they would almost certainly become hopelessly lost.

It was soon evident that the worst might be expected. In the deepening gloom the boys hurried along the sh.o.r.e as fast as their weary feet would take them. Then the blackness of the night settled down on the water and the forests, and they were compelled to move cautiously; for trees and bushes were thick, and here and there a ravine had to be crossed, or a brawling stream.

Ned bravely kept up his spirits, and did his best to cheer Clay.

”It can't be much farther,” he would say now and then; ”keep your ears open for the roar of those rapids. That will tell us when we are near camp.”

But the night lengthened without bringing the welcome sound, and at last the boys found their progress abruptly barred by a steep bluff that fell abruptly into the water. It was not the hill that lay in the vicinity of camp, else the rapids could surely have been heard. The night was very still, except for an occasional noise in the forest that made the boys start.

They were confronted now by two equally unpleasant alternatives--either to remain where they were until morning, or to make a detour around the hill, and try to reach the creek on the lower side.

They chose the latter, and started up through the woods hand in hand.

They might have foreseen what would happen. The night was very dark, and after floundering about through the bushes they became hopelessly lost, and knew not which way to turn in search of the creek.

Clay was quite in despair, but Ned persuaded him to move on, and after tramping for ten or fifteen minutes without the least idea which way they were headed, they reached a fence that separated the woods from an open field. As they mounted the top bar and perched themselves there for a short rest, Ned uttered a cry of delight, and pointed out a flickering yellow gleam far across the field.

”Hurrah! that must be the camp,” exclaimed Clay, springing impetuously from the fence. ”Come on; let's run for it. I don't feel a bit tired now.”

”Not too fast,” cried Ned warningly. ”You're jumping at a rash conclusion now, Clay. That light is in the window of some farmhouse. It stands to reason that it can't be at our camp.”

Clay stopped and retraced his steps.

”I was dead sure it was the campfire,” he said dismally. ”I thought our troubles were over.”

”Perhaps they are,” replied Ned slowly. ”We'll go up to that farmhouse and find out exactly how the land lies. If the camp is not far off, we'll borrow a lantern and push on--otherwise we'll ask for a place to sleep until morning.”

This arrangement was thoroughly satisfactory to Clay, and the boys started briskly across the field. They found an orchard at the farther end, and after pa.s.sing through this and rounding the corner of the barn, they saw the house in front of them.

It stood in a good sized yard inclosed by a picket fence. The light was in one of the upper front rooms, where some late retiring member of the family was no doubt preparing for bed.

”It won't do to make any racket,” said Ned, ”because there may be a dog around. We'll go quietly in and rap on the door.”

The boys softly opened the gate and entered the yard. In spite of the utmost caution their feet made a crunching noise on the gravel path, and the consequence was that before they were half way to the house a dog began to bark furiously. Worse still, the sound came from between them and the fence, so that escape was cut off.

”This way,” cried Ned, das.h.i.+ng toward the corner of the house. ”We may find shelter in the outbuildings.”

He had taken but a dozen steps when his feet clattered on some loose boards. These gave way with a crash, and after a brief drop through empty s.p.a.ce, he plunged into ice cold water, going clear under the surface.

The noise of the splitting wood that followed warned Clay of his danger.

He stood stock still, trembling in every limb.

The dog did not appear to be coming any nearer, and his shrill barking was now mingled with the clank of chains. All at once Clay comprehended the situation. The brute was fastened to his kennel somewhere near the gate, and was therefore powerless to do harm.

Clay's presence of mind quickly returned. He drew a match from his pocket and struck it on his shoe just as a feeble cry for help came apparently from the bowels of the earth.

As the blaze flared up Clay saw the partially covered mouth of a well just in front of him. The gap between the planking showed where Ned had fallen through.