The line of shouting
men had at least the advantage that it enabled Ralph to keep a fairly
straight course, as the sound of voices told him if he was deviating
much to the right or left.
"We may not be going right," he said to his companion, "but at least
we have the satisfaction of knowing that we are not moving in a
circle."
After some hours' marching Ralph, to his great delight, came upon a
hill rill of water.
"Thank goodness," he said, "we have got a guide at last. If we follow
this we must get somewhere. We need not go on in this tedious way, but
will halt here till all the men come up."
It was half an hour before the sergeant arrived.
"We have got a guide now, sergeant, and can push on. I suppose you
have no idea what stream this is, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"
"Not at present," the officer admitted. "There are scores of these
little rills about. They make their way down from the bogs at the top
of the hills, and there is nothing to distinguish one from the other."
They now tramped on briskly, keeping close to the little stream.
Sometimes the ground became soft and marshy, and it was difficult to
follow its course; but they went straight on and after three more
hours' marching came upon a road that crossed the stream over a little
culvert. There was a cheer from the tired men as they stood on hard
ground again.
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