CHAPTER XXIII
IN THE GULCH
“Now, boys,” began Jerry Hopkins, who seemed to take the leadership inthis crisis, “we’ve got to map out a plan of work for ourselves. Itwon’t do to go at this thing haphazard, or hit and miss. We’ve got tohave a system.”
“That’s right, old man!” exclaimed Ned. “Go on, map it out, and we’llbe with you.”
“Why don’t we yell--fire guns--build a signal fire--climb a talltree--find the professor that way!” cried Andy Rush, with his usualimpetuosity.
“That’s just what we don’t want to do,” replied Jerry, calmly, for Andywas hurrying about in a manner that befitted his name, darting here andthere toward several paths that led into the woods.
“Don’t we want to find him?” asked the small chap, wonderingly.
“Of course, but that’s not the way to go about it,” advised Jerry.“We’ve got to find the right trail, and that isn’t going to be so easywhen there are several he might have taken.”
“Let’s follow the one that shows the freshest footprints, then,”suggested Bob.
“That isn’t easy to determine, either,” Jerry said. “We’ve trampedabout here so much that we’ve covered up any marks that might havehelped us.”
“Then what can we do?” Ned wanted to know.
“Well,” began Jerry slowly, “we’ll have to make a start on each ofthese trails, of course. Then when we find one doesn’t pan out we’lltry another.
“My notion,” he went on, “is that the professor used each and everyone of these woodland paths. But he only used one the last time, andon that there will be no return marks. Now the thing for us to do isto find that last trail, and the only way we can do that is to pickout the one with the freshest marks--that is, the one that shows thefreshest marks after we have gone beyond the point where we, ourselves,tramped.”
“That’s the idea!” cried Ned. “Come on!”
Jerry’s plan was the only feasible one. They must explore each woodlandtrail until they came on the one which showed it had last been used bythe professor. Then they could follow it until they either found him,or found where the trail ended.
Fortunately the boys were experienced woodsmen. They were not expertguides, but they knew enough to follow a trail, and also to blaze onefor themselves. They had had experience in this.
“Now,” resumed Jerry, after they had settled this point, “we must packalong some grub, for it won’t do to have to come back to the cabin atnoon for something to eat. That would waste too much time.”
“I’ll look after the grub,” offered Bob.
“I thought you would, Chunky,” said Jerry, with a laugh. “And the restof us will take what things we need.”
“Shall we stay out all night?” asked Andy, a bit apprehensively. He wasnot used, as were the others, to roughing it.
“No, I don’t think that would be wise,” replied Jerry. “We will divideup the time so that we can use half of the daylight hours in goingin a direction away from the cabin, and the other half in returning.We’ll take a compass, so as not to get lost, and we’ll come back bya different route than the one we use going out. That will cover twotrails, or paths, every day, and----”
“How many days do you think we’re going to spend on this search?” askedNed, with an anxious look at Jerry.
“There’s no telling,” and Jerry’s voice took on a solemn tone thatmade his chums look at him in wonder.
“Maybe the professor will come back while we’re out looking for him,”suggested Bob, who was busy putting up the lunch.
“That’s right--he may,” agreed Jerry, “and to let him know that we arehere, and will be back, we’ll leave a note for him that will explainmatters.”
“He’ll wonder why we came up here after him,” remarked Ned.
“Well, we won’t explain that--in the note,” returned Jerry. “There willbe time enough when we see him.”
They were soon ready to start. The cabin had not been locked when theyreached it, and they did not now fasten the door. The note was left inplain sight on the dining table.
They began at the trail farthest to the left of the cabin, intendingto work to the right. There were several of these narrow paths leadinginto the woods, all of them in front of the cabin, except one, andthat was at the back, going off into the woods beyond the spring. Theydecided to leave that until the last.
“Forward, march!” cried Jerry, as they set off. He took careful note oftheir direction by the compass and was sure they could find the cabinagain.
I shall not weary you with an account of their exploration of all thosetrails. Suffice it to say that they soon exhausted the possibilities ofthe first three. Before noon they had demonstrated that the professorcould have used none of them, save for a short distance, unless hepossessed an airship, which they hardly believed possible, though morethan once he had gone in theirs after bugs and other specimens.
But the first three trails, after straggling into the wilderness for amile or so, became so overgrown with forest growth that it was evidentthey had not been used in a year or more. There was no use going alongthem.
The fourth was more promising, and showed plainly that the professor,or some one, had passed along it recently. The boys were quite sure itwas Dr. Snodgrass, for the footprints showed the nail pattern of theshoes worn by the scientist. He was very particular about his trampingshoes, and always had them made to order.
“Though of course someone else might have his shoes made at the sameplace, and, naturally, the shoemaker would use the hob-nails in thesame way,” observed Ned. “But I believe this was where the professorwalked.”
The others were sure also, but the certainty did them little good, forthey found where the person, whoever he was, had doubled back on hisown trail.
“We’ll have to give this up,” said Jerry, “but it is getting morehopeful. Try the next one.”
This resulted in nothing. The trail was a blind one. But the one afterthat, which they started out on shortly after eating their lunch, atonce raised new hope in their hearts. There were unmistakable signsthat it had been traveled recently, and the peculiar marks of thehob-nailed shoes were very plain.
“We’ll find him!” cried Bob, enthusiastically.
But they were not destined to have matters so easy as they ventured tohope. The signs became more and more pronounced as they advanced, andthere was no back-track.
“He surely must have gotten on the trail of the two-tailed lizard thistime,” exulted Ned. “Now we’ll find him, and we’ll probably see himcamping out under a hut of boughs, studying the habits of the lizard,so he can write a book about it.”
“Maybe,” agreed Jerry.
They tramped on, and so eager and enthusiastic did they become thatthey failed to note the passage of time. It grew dark almost beforethey realized it, and Jerry, coming to a halt in a dense glade, wherethe shadows were long and gloomy, said:
“Hold on, fellows, we can’t keep this up.”
“Why not?” asked Andy.
“Because we’ll have to spend the night in the woods if we do. We can’tget back before nightfall, as it is, and this trail goes on, as you cansee.”
Indeed the marks of the hob-nailed shoes were still plainly to be seenin the soft ground.
“Just a little farther,” pleaded Bob, and Jerry gave in, against hisbetter judgment.
But finally the tall leader called a halt.
“Fellows, we really must go back,” he said. “We can take up this trailthe first thing in the morning, and then we can come prepared for anight in the woods, if need be. But we must go back now.”
“But what about the professor?” asked Ned.
“I’m afraid we can do nothing for him. He may be all right, and he maynot. He may be in need of help, but we can help him best by going backnow, and starting out again. It will soon be so dark that we can’t seethe trail, anyhow.”
Reluctantly they turned back. Jerry had spoken truly. They could no
tsee the trail, and, in spite of blaze marks, and the compass, they weresoon uncertain of their locality. They tried to go by the stars, and tofollow the path by the light of an electric flashlight they carried,but several times they got off the trail. Finally Jerry said:
“Fellows, we’re only getting worse instead of better. We’ve got to stayhere all night.”
“All night--without a tent!” faltered Andy.
“Why, that’s nothing,” laughed Jerry. “It’s warm, and we’ve often doneit; haven’t we, fellows?”
“Sure,” echoed Ned and Bob, and the latter added:
“I wish we’d saved more grub.”
“Oh, well, it won’t be the first time we’ve gone hungry,” consoledJerry, though his own stomach felt gnawing pangs.
They made the best of an unpleasant situation. Some evergreen boughswere cut, and a rude sort of shelter made. Under this they crawled, topass the long hours of darkness. It was no fun waiting thus for morningto come, but the boys did not always look for fun.
They were astir with the first streak of dawn, and then they saw howneedless had been their suffering.
For they had spent the night in the open, not half a mile from thecomfortable cabin. Only they were not familiar enough with the woods torecognize how near “home” they were.
“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” exclaimed Ned, when this fact was borne in tothem.
“No use crying over spilled milk,” consoled Jerry. “Let’s havebreakfast and then we’ll start out again.”
And never had a breakfast tasted so delicious.
They made fast time back along the trail again, carrying with themenough food to last for some time, though they expected to be back inthe cabin by night. They soon reached and passed the point where theyhad turned back before, and hurried on, alert for what they might find.
Suddenly Jerry, who was in the lead, uttered a cry.
“Have you found him?” called Ned, pressing forward.
“No, but look here!”
They all hastened to where Jerry stood on the brink of what they sawwas a deep gulch. There, on the edge, were the unmistakable signs ofsomeone having slipped over. The earth and grass was torn, as thoughthe person had vainly tried to prevent a fall.
“Is it--is he----” faltered Andy.
“Look,” answered Jerry. And, as they gazed over the brink, they saw,lying in a huddled heap at the bottom of the gulch, the figure of aman.