CHAPTER XXIII

IN THE GULCH

“Now, boys,” began Jerry Hopkins, who seemed to take the leadership in this crisis, “we’ve got to map out a plan of work for ourselves. It won’t do to go at this thing haphazard, or hit and miss. We’ve got to have a system.”

“That’s right, old man!” exclaimed Ned. “Go on, map it out, and we’ll be with you.”

“Why don’t we yell--fire guns--build a signal fire--climb a tall tree--find the professor that way!” cried Andy Rush, with his usual impetuosity.

“That’s just what we don’t want to do,” replied Jerry, calmly, for Andy was hurrying about in a manner that befitted his name, darting here and there 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 easy when 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 tramped about here so much that we’ve covered up any marks that might have helped us.”

“Then what can we do?” Ned wanted to know.

“Well,” began Jerry slowly, “we’ll have to make a start on each of these trails, of course. Then when we find one doesn’t pan out we’ll try another.

“My notion,” he went on, “is that the professor used each and every one of these woodland paths. But he only used one the last time, and on that there will be no return marks. Now the thing for us to do is to find that last trail, and the only way we can do that is to pick out the one with the freshest marks--that is, the one that shows the freshest 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 woodland trail until they came on the one which showed it had last been used by the 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 expert guides, but they knew enough to follow a trail, and also to blaze one for themselves. They had had experience in this.

“Now,” resumed Jerry, after they had settled this point, “we must pack along some grub, for it won’t do to have to come back to the cabin at noon 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 rest of us will take what things we need.”

“Shall we stay out all night?” asked Andy, a bit apprehensively. He was not used, as were the others, to roughing it.

“No, I don’t think that would be wise,” replied Jerry. “We will divide up the time so that we can use half of the daylight hours in going in 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 by a different route than the one we use going out. That will cover two trails, or paths, every day, and----”

“How many days do you think we’re going to spend on this search?” asked Ned, with an anxious look at Jerry.

“There’s no telling,” and Jerry’s voice took on a solemn tone that made 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 are here, and will be back, we’ll leave a note for him that will explain matters.”

“He’ll wonder why we came up here after him,” remarked Ned.

“Well, we won’t explain that--in the note,” returned Jerry. “There will be time enough when we see him.”

They were soon ready to start. The cabin had not been locked when they reached it, and they did not now fasten the door. The note was left in plain sight on the dining table.

They began at the trail farthest to the left of the cabin, intending to work to the right. There were several of these narrow paths leading into the woods, all of them in front of the cabin, except one, and that was at the back, going off into the woods beyond the spring. They decided to leave that until the last.

“Forward, march!” cried Jerry, as they set off. He took careful note of their direction by the compass and was sure they could find the cabin again.

I shall not weary you with an account of their exploration of all those trails. Suffice it to say that they soon exhausted the possibilities of the first three. Before noon they had demonstrated that the professor could have used none of them, save for a short distance, unless he possessed an airship, which they hardly believed possible, though more than once he had gone in theirs after bugs and other specimens.

But the first three trails, after straggling into the wilderness for a mile or so, became so overgrown with forest growth that it was evident they had not been used in a year or more. There was no use going along them.

The fourth was more promising, and showed plainly that the professor, or some one, had passed along it recently. The boys were quite sure it was Dr. Snodgrass, for the footprints showed the nail pattern of the shoes worn by the scientist. He was very particular about his tramping shoes, and always had them made to order.

“Though of course someone else might have his shoes made at the same place, and, naturally, the shoemaker would use the hob-nails in the same way,” observed Ned. “But I believe this was where the professor walked.”

The others were sure also, but the certainty did them little good, for they found where the person, whoever he was, had doubled back on his own trail.

“We’ll have to give this up,” said Jerry, “but it is getting more hopeful. Try the next one.”

This resulted in nothing. The trail was a blind one. But the one after that, which they started out on shortly after eating their lunch, at once raised new hope in their hearts. There were unmistakable signs that it had been traveled recently, and the peculiar marks of the hob-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 to hope. The signs became more and more pronounced as they advanced, and there was no back-track.

“He surely must have gotten on the trail of the two-tailed lizard this time,” exulted Ned. “Now we’ll find him, and we’ll probably see him camping 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 that they failed to note the passage of time. It grew dark almost before they realized it, and Jerry, coming to a halt in a dense glade, where the 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’t get back before nightfall, as it is, and this trail goes on, as you can see.”

Indeed the marks of the hob-nailed shoes were still plainly to be seen in the soft ground.

“Just a little farther,” pleaded Bob, and Jerry gave in, against his better judgment.

But finally the tall leader called a halt.

“Fellows, we really must go back,” he said. “We can take up this trail the first thing in the morning, and then we can come prepared for a night 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 may not. He may be in need of help, but we can help him best by going back now, and starting out again. It will soon be so dark that we can’t see the trail, anyhow.”

Reluctantly they turned back. Jerry had spoken truly. They could not see the trail, and, in spite of blaze marks, and the compass, they were soon uncertain of their locality. They tried to go by the stars, and to follow 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 stay here all night.”

“All night--without a tent!” faltered Andy.

“Why, that’s nothing,” laughed Jerry. “It’s warm, and we’ve often done it; 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,” consoled Jerry, though his own stomach felt gnawing pangs.

They made the best of an unpleasant situation. Some evergreen boughs were cut, and a rude sort of shelter made. Under this they crawled, to pass the long hours of darkness. It was no fun waiting thus for morning to come, but the boys did not always look for fun.

They were astir with the first streak of dawn, and then they saw how needless had been their suffering.

For they had spent the night in the open, not half a mile from the comfortable cabin. Only they were not familiar enough with the woods to recognize how near “home” they were.

“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” exclaimed Ned, when this fact was borne in to them.

“No use crying over spilled milk,” consoled Jerry. “Let’s have breakfast 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 them enough food to last for some time, though they expected to be back in the cabin by night. They soon reached and passed the point where they had 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 saw was a deep gulch. There, on the edge, were the unmistakable signs of someone having slipped over. The earth and grass was torn, as though the 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 a man.