Brad had his own opinion. However, realizing that it was too late to turn back now without losing more precious minutes, he kept silent. He blamed himself severely for having listened to Red. From past experience he should have known that the younger boy’s enthusiasm often carried him away.
The swampy area behind them, the Cubs looked in vain for a marked trail.
“We should have hit it right here,” Red declared, deeply troubled. “Well, it can’t be too far ahead.”
“You’re not losing your way, are you?” Brad demanded. “Dan’s back there in the cave, waiting and—”
“I’ll get you into camp,” Red cut in though with less confidence. “I may be a little mixed, but I’m sure of my directions. We’ll strike the marked trail any minute now.”
On they plowed, past fallen trees and then through another stretch of mosquito swamp. By this time Red was mud to his knees. The sleeve of his jacket was torn, and his face had been scratched by brambles. Brad was in little better condition.
For awhile Red kept doggedly on, the older boy plodding behind him. Then they came to another much larger area of fairly deep swamp. Both boys halted, gazing at each other in despair.
“We’re lost,” Red burst out, “and it’s all my fault. I thought I knew the way. Now I’m mixed up.”
Brad did not blame his friend for he knew he had tried his best.
“We can’t cross this swamp area,” he said quietly. “We made a bad mistake leaving the beach route. Now we’ll have to retrace part of our way, and try to hit the old trail.”
“That will delay us a lot. And Dan—he’ll be expecting us.”
“I know,” Brad said grimly. “We’ve let him down. But it can’t be helped. We made one mistake. The important thing is not to make two of ’em. With luck, we’ll still reach camp before it’s too late.”
Mr. Hatfield stood in the doorway of the hogan, staring past the Holloway home on the hill toward the main road.
“It’s not like Brad and Dan to be late,” he remarked to Mr. Holloway. “I can’t guess what’s keeping them.”
“Red’s not here either,” the Den Dad returned looking worried. “The boys were here early—we know that, because a sack of food was left on our porch. But what’s become of ’em?”
The sun had risen high and the hour set for the start of the Pack pow-wow now approached. All the Cubs shared Mr. Hatfield’s uneasiness. Without Dan and Brad, particularly the latter, it would be most difficult to carry on the planned ceremonies and competitions.