He did not, however, mention this to Grenfell.

By degrees the dim black trees grew hazier and less material. They
appeared unsubstantial shadows of firs and pines, and he resented the
fact that they barred his passage, when he blundered into one or two
of them. There was a creek somewhere, but it was elusive, flashing
here and there in the uncertain moonlight and vanishing again. Once or
twice he thought he had left it behind, and was astonished when
shortly afterward he stumbled into it to the knees. He had a
distressful stitch in his side, which, though he had been conscious of
it for several hours, was growing almost insupportable. Sometimes he
called to Grenfell, who seldom answered him, just to break the
oppressive silence. It seemed to enfold and crush him in spite of the
clamor of the creek which indeed he scarcely heard. No man, he
fancied, had crept through those solitudes before; but several times
he felt almost sure that he saw shadowy figures flitting among the
trees, and Grenfell declared that he heard the clank of cowbells.
Weston was not astonished, though he knew that no cattle had ever
crossed that range.

At last in the gray dawn they came to a little opening where the
ground was soft. It seemed familiar, and both of them stopped. They
certainly had seen before something very much like the slope of rock
that rose in front of them. Weston, blinking about him, discovered in
the quaggy mould two foot-prints half filled with water. He called to
Grenfell, who leaned on his shoulder while he stooped to see them more
clearly. Then he discovered two more footprints a little farther away.
They were fresh, and evidently had not been made by the man who left
the others. Suddenly, he straightened himself with a harsh laugh.

"That is where we went up last night. We are back again," he said.

Grenfell gazed at him stupidly.

"But we went through the valley between the range and the spur," he
insisted. "I remember it. We must have done so."

Weston's face showed drawn and grim in the creeping light.

"If you went over all the range by daylight you would never find that
valley again. It will have vanished altogether, like the lake."

"But I camped beside the lake."

"Well," said Weston, "we floundered through the valley, and we have
come back to where we started. That's a sure thing. What do you make
of it?"

Grenfell admitted that it was beyond him.

"It doesn't count for much in any case. We can't m