The three boys rolled up their blankets, and resumed the trail, first taking a good look at the map and fixing the compass direction. The clouds were now plainly visible above them, both around the tops of Adams, Madison and Jefferson, and evidently over on Clay, too. But behind them, across the Gulf, Chandler Ridge was in clear sun, and they could see a motor car going up the carriage road, and even hear a faint cough from its exhaust. “This is no storm, it’s evidently just a wandering cloud,” said Rob. “But we’d better make all the distance we can in clear going.” They toiled upward for a full hour, almost hand over hand in places, with the cloud still above them and the Gulf clear below, before they got into the under curtain of the vapor, and began to have trouble in finding the trail. They were feeling their way cautiously, compasses in hand, when suddenly Art, who was leading, uttered a cry, and pointed to the unmistakable cross path of the Gulf Side Trail, carefully maintained and worn by many feet. There was a sign, too. “Hooray! Here we are! Can’t miss that trail!” yelled Peanut, his feeling of relief escaping in a shout which used up all the breath left in his lungs. There was, to the amazement of the Scouts, an answering shout from somewhere southwest of them, coming out of the fog--a faint call which sounded like “Help!” CHAPTER XVI FIRST AID IN THE CLOUDS! “What’s that?” all three exclaimed. Facing in the direction whence the sound seemed to come, they put their hands around their mouths, and shouted together, “Hoo-oo!” Again there was a faint reply. “It’s down the Gulf Side Trail, and a bit west!” cried Art. “Come on!” “Easy!” cried Rob. “We don’t want to go rushing off the trail this way, or we’ll be lost, too. Here, let’s go south on the Gulf Side, until the shouts are directly west of us, and then strike in toward ’em. Keep yelling as we go.” The answering halloo grew nearer as they moved south on the Gulf Side, and presently it seemed quite close, to the west. The boys struck off toward it, over what seemed almost like a rocky pasture there was so much mountain grass at this spot, and in a hundred yards or so they came upon a man and two women, one of the latter seated on the ground moaning, her face pale with pain, while the other was rubbing her ankle. “Thank God!” said the man, as the Scouts appeared. “But they’re only boys!” added the woman who was not hurt, her face clouding with disappointment. She looked as if she had been crying. The injured woman, however, said nothing. Rob took one look at her, and saw that she was fainting. He caught her just in time to keep her from falling backward upon the rocks. “Here, hold her!” he said brusquely to the man, while he unslung his pack and fished for the aromatic spirits of ammonia. She came to in a moment. “Lost?” asked Rob.