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It wanted a little less than three hours to that time when the boys reached the little cl.u.s.ter of six houses which comprised West Hill. The signboard had probably told only half the truth in regard to distance--as country signboards usually do.
The postoffice was, of course, combined with a produce store. At this time of day its only occupants were the proprietor and a grizzled old farmer puffing at a corncob pipe.
The letters were soon mailed, and in response to Ned's inquiry he was handed a weighty hat box addressed to Randolph Moore, and a batch of half a dozen letters.
"I'll bet a dollar that's a cake," said Clay. "It will tickle Randy."
"It wouldn't tickle him if he had to carry it about nine miles," replied Ned ruefully, "and the box says 'handle with care,' too."
However, the cake could not be left behind, and the boys agreed to carry it by turns.
"How far is Otter Run from here in a straight line?" inquired Ned of the storekeeper.
"'Bout eleven mile," was the reply. "Ain't that kerect, Bowser?"
"It's mor'n that by road," said the old farmer, taking his pipe from his lips. "It's a good thirteen mile to Tanner's Dam, an' the run comes in just below the mill race."
The boys exchanged glances of dismay.
"That map fooled me after all," muttered Ned. "The camp can't be anywhere near Otter Run."
He then explained the situation to the two men, describing as minutely as possible the location of the camp. Both wagged their heads dubiously.
"I can't fix it to a sartainty," said the storekeeper.
"Nor kin I," observed Mr. Bowser. "There air heaps of jest sich runs, an' high hills an' bits of bad water--same as you chaps tell about."
It was evident that no positive information could be obtained, so the boys said "good day," and left the store.
"Under the circ.u.mstances we won't risk making a bee line for camp," said Ned. "If we had any landmarks to go by it would be different."
"Then must we go back the way we came?" asked Clay.
"Exactly; we have nine weary miles to tramp. I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. Just think of a good supper and a snug bed, Clay, and you won't mind the distance so much."
"It's this confounded box that worries me," muttered Clay. "I believe I'd sooner carry a feather bed. The crazy thing jerks when I stick it under one arm, and if I hug it to my breast it hits me on the chin every few seconds. It's so heavy that the cords cut my hand if I try to carry it that way. I wish I could balance it on my head."
Clay did not exaggerate the perverse and obstinate nature of that hat box. It changed bearers no less than six times before the mendacious signpost was reached, and then its victims were so exhausted that they had to lie down on the gra.s.s and rest.
CHAPTER XI
SEARCHING FOR THE CAMP
It was already past three o'clock when the boys resumed their tramp, abandoning the road and heading across country along the same course by which they had come.
For the first two or three miles they did not pay any special attention to the scenery around them; they were kept busy climbing fences and hills, and taking care of the refractory cake box, which became more and more of a burden every moment. Finally as they were descending a long wooded slope, Ned was amazed to discover that the mountains, instead of being straight ahead, lay off to the right.
"That's a funny mistake," he said. "I wonder how long we have been moving parallel with the creek instead of toward it? Some of those snaky ravines we pa.s.sed through must have turned us around without our knowing it."
"I hope we haven't lost the path," returned Clay. "Nothing about here looks familiar to me, but then I didn't pay much attention to the scenery this morning."
"Neither did I," replied Ned uneasily, "and I'm afraid that's just where we made a big mistake. If we had only noted some landmarks as we came along, we would not be in this fix now. It really is a pretty serious fix, Clay. You see we can't tell how long we have been traveling in this wrong direction. The only thing we can do now is to head straight for the mountains, and run the chances of striking the creek in the vicinity of the camp."
"That's true," a.s.sented Clay. "I hope we'll reach it before dark. Randy and Nugget will be pretty badly scared if we don't."
They started off again, headed this time in the proper direction. Of course the mountains were visible only at rare intervals, and this added to the perplexity of the situation, since it is very difficult to keep on a straight line unless some guiding point is constantly in view.
It was soon evident that the boys were far astray from the path they had followed that morning. The country was more lonely and rugged--a continual succession of steep hills and dense bits of forest. Few farmhouses were visible, and those only at a distance.
The sun sank lower and lower as they trudged wearily along. The many miles already covered that day were beginning to tell on them severely.
They were hungry, too, having eaten nothing since breakfast.
"I wish we had bought some crackers and cheese at the store," said Ned; "I thought about it when we were nearly a mile away, but it was too late then to go back."
"We have Randy's cake," replied Clay. "I'm going to break into it if we don't soon reach camp. I don't remember when I was so hungry as I am now."
"Wait a little while," said Ned. "The creek surely can't be far away.
The chances are that it lies beyond that next hill."
The hill to which he had reference was a good half mile distant, and the pine trees on its crest loomed sharply against the blue sky. Ere reaching it the boys were destined to be deprived of their burden in a very aggravating manner--and just when they had begun to appreciate its value as a means of satisfying their hunger.
As they emerged from a copse of hazel bushes on a narrow country road, a big black dog bounded from the step of a little cabin a few yards away, and came at them in a most ferocious manner. The boys darted across the road and into a clover field through a broken place in the fence.
The dog followed, paying not the least attention to the loud commands of a woman who stood in the cabin door. When Ned wheeled around the brute was within a dozen feet of him, growling savagely, showing his fangs and teeth, and coming on at a pace which meant business.
Shouting had no effect whatever, and as not a stick or a stone was within reach, the boy's situation was far from pleasant. But he had the cake box in his arms, and on the impulse of the moment he lifted it over his head with both hands and dashed it with all his might at the advancing brute.
It struck him fairly on the nose, breaking open with the force of the blow, and turning the angry snarls into a shrill yelp of pain. Ned did not wait to see the result, but dashed across the field to overtake Clay.
When they turned and looked back from a safe distance, the dog was greedily devouring the broken cake.
"We won't be troubled with that any more," said Ned. "I had to do it, or the brute would have bitten me. I don't think Randy will blame me much."
"It means good-by to our supper though," replied Clay, "and from the way that dog eats, his appet.i.te won't be more than half satisfied when he finishes the cake. We had better be moving on."
This was prudent advice, and the boys made quick time across the field, not feeling thoroughly safe until they were in the shelter of the woods.
The ground now began to ascend, and a few moments later they gained the top of the hill and saw the silvery thread of the creek s.h.i.+ning far below them.
It took some time to descend, owing to the steepness of the slope, and the rocks and bushes that obstructed the way. When they finally reached the water's edge the duskiness of twilight had come, and they knew that darkness would follow in a short time.
"I haven't the faintest idea where we are," said Ned uneasily; "of course we are above the camp, no doubt of that; but just how far, is the important question. I feel like kicking myself for making that awful blunder to-day. It would be a nice thing if we had to tramp all night."
"You don't think the camp is that far away?" exclaimed Clay in alarm.