The chase was blotted out from
them, and the two boys, stopping, grasped each other's hands for the
sake of company. They could not see twenty feet before them, but the
rain still poured.
"We'll have to give her up," said Henry reluctantly. "We couldn't follow
a whole herd of buffaloes in all this black night."
"Maybe we can find her to-morrow," said Paul.
"Maybe so," replied Henry. "We've got to wait anyhow. Let's go home."
They started back for Wareville, keeping close together, lest they lose
each other in the darkness, and they realized suddenly that they were
uncomfortable. The rain was coming in such sheets directly in their
faces that it half blinded them, now and then their feet sank deep in
mire and their drenched bodies began to grow cold. The little log houses
in which they lived now seemed to them palaces, fit for a king, and they
hastened their footsteps, often tripping on vines or running into
bushes. But Henry was trying to see through the dark woods.
"We ought to be near the clearing," he said.
They stopped and looked all about, seeking to see a light. They knew
that one would be shining from the tower of the blockhouse as a guide to
them.
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