taken it to be. True, it lent him an air of general
disrepute, but then none of us were quite fit for the drawing-room. Even
Moira, sheltered as she had been, showed very much the worse for wear.
She greeted Cumshaw with a cheery smile, the bravest thing about her I
thought, and a ready question as to his adventures. But he could tell
her little more than that he had gone over the edge with us and rolled
away until he brought up against the stone or whatever it was that had
bruised his face so nicely. Our own story, what there was of it, was
soon told, and a few glances about us showed that in the murk of the
night and rain we had missed our footing and shot off the track a dozen
feet or so to the level ground below. Above us waved the tall shapes of
kingly gums, and below us lay vast spaces of bracken. Beyond that we
could form little idea as to our position, though the mist was slowly
drifting away now.

"The best thing to do, I suppose," I remarked, "is to get back to last
night's camping-place and see what we can find of the stores. Of course
we shouldn't have left them, but it's no use being wise after the event.
We've to go back as quick as we can now, and maybe we can dig up
something warm. That's supposing that everything isn't too wet to be
used."

"As I remarked before, it's up to you," Cumshaw threw at me. "Lead on,
Carstairs."

"If you can show me any way back to the main track, I'll lead on with
pleasure," I told him. "There's none visible that I can see, and I don't
fancy that my eyes are over dull."

Cumshaw said something under his breath, but before I could drop on him
for it Moira interposed. "How about walking round at the foot of this
ridge and seeing where it'll lead us to?" she suggested.

"That's as fine a plan as any," I answered. "We'll try it."

We did. We sauntered along listlessly for the best part of an hour, and
then it struck me all of a sudden that we were rising rapidly.

"We're on the wrong track," I said, stopping short. "We didn't come down
as steep a slope as this last night."

"You're right there, Carstairs. We didn't," Cumshaw said, stopping short
and looking about him with a puzzled air.

"Why not keep right on?" Moira advised. "It's just possible that we're
working back to the track."

"We'll give it a chance," I said, after chewing the suggestion over in
silence for a few minutes. "We'll keep on for ten minutes or so, and if
it gets any worse we can always go back."