But the silence was unbroken, and, with the feeling upon me that we might be going farther and farther from the place we sought, I followed him again, still holding tightly by his hand. For the next hour we struggled on, now wading through mud and water, now feeling some kind of growth brushing against our legs; but when, at the end of that time, we stopped short for a further consideration of our position, it seemed to be hopeless in the extreme. We listened, but there was not a sound, and at last Brace uttered an impatient ejaculation. "An utter failure!" he whispered. "I'm afraid so," I replied. "We must have wandered off to left or right. Had we not better go back and make a fresh start?" "How?" Before he had said that word bitterly, I felt how foolish my remark was, and remained silent. "My good Gil," he continued, "I wish we could; it is terrible. I have not the most remote idea which way to turn, and the next thing will be that we shall be found hopelessly bogged at daybreak, and become prisoners, or--" A shiver ran through me, for there was no need for him to finish his sentence; but there was a feeling of reaction directly. "Not so bad as that," I said. "We must find the place somehow. It can't be so very far away." _Cock-a-doodle-doo_! The crowing was so close to us that I gave quite a jump, and then stood fast, as from almost above our heads there was the rustle and beating of wings and the querulous cry of a hen, as if fowls were fidgeting somewhere upon a perch, no doubt disturbed by our being so near. _Cock-a-doodle-doo_ came from a short distance off to our left, and directly after, in response to the challenge, there came the beating of wings from somewhere away in front, and another deeper-voiced crow came through the denser darkness. "Gil," whispered Brace--and I felt his hot breath in my ear--"we are close up to the village." We stood there with beating hearts, and a feeling of excitement that was almost unbearable growing upon us as, after a little more rustling, the fowls quieted down, and carefully feeling his way with his sword, Brace took a few steps in the direction of the first crowing. Then his sword tapped against wood, and there was a loud cackling from several fowls above our head. "Hist," I said. "No danger," he said; "they will think it is a jackal disturbing the birds." As he spoke, he felt about with his sword, and whispered to me-- "We are in a rough kind of shed supported on bamboo poles. Come on." He led the way again past the place that he had first touched with his sword, and we could feel that we were passing over hard beaten ground. Directly after, Brace touched another building, and went on, carefully feeling about, while I fully expected from moment to moment that I should hear a challenge followed by the flash of a piece and its loud report.