Chuck pointed again. “Out there, I guess. But how can I tell now?”
“But you think they were out that way?”
“Yes, more or less.” Chuck shook his head, “Oh, heck, I just don’t know.”
“Which way would you lead the party if you had a choice.”
Chuck pointed in the same direction again. “That way.”
“Then suppose we take a chance.”
“What!”
“Suppose we follow your instinct and go that way.” Dr. Perry pointed, too.
“But I may be wrong. After all, we can’t be sure.”
“That’s the chance we’ll have to take.”
“I couldn’t ask you to. It may mean the difference between getting back and staying here forever.”
“We’ll never get back if we don’t try,” Dr. Perry said.
“Yes, but...”
“Suppose we put it to a vote.”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“Come on,” Dr. Perry said. He took Chuck’s arm and led him back to the party. “Our guide has a problem,” he said. “His markers are gone, and he has no real way of knowing just where the rendezvous site is any more.”
“I figured as much,” Masterson said.
“He didn’t know from the start,” Gardel added.
“Be that as it may,” Dr. Perry said, running his fingers through his thick brown beard, “he thinks he may know where the rocks were.”
“Fat chance of that,” Gardel put in.
“Has he got a crystal ball?” Masterson asked sarcastically.
“Oh, pipe down,” Pete shouted.
A scowl crossed Masterson’s face, and he pressed his thick lips tightly together. Sitting near him, Dr. Dumar glanced up through his spectacles, his pale blue eyes shrewdly analyzing the bigger man.
“Yes.” he said at last. “I believe we should allow my colleague to finish speaking without any further interruptions.” He nodded his head in a final motion and then gestured for Dr. Perry to continue.
“The fact is, Chuck feels he shouldn’t take the chance without our consent. I suggested that we put it to a vote.”
Arthur slammed one big brown fist into the open palm of his other hand. “Good idea. Let’s do it and get started.”
A smile started at the corners of Dr. Perry’s eyes, worked its way down to a flashing grin that gleamed brightly in the depths of his beard. “Unfortunately, we do not seem to be equipped with either pencils or paper. I’m afraid we’ll have to make this an open vote.”
“Let us proceed,” Dr. Dumar said, eying Masterson closely. Masterson tweaked at his nose and then stared at the ground.
“I shall cast my ballot first,” Dr. Perry said. “I vote in favor of allowing Chuck to lead us wherever he feels the site may be.” Dr. Perry paused. “Now, then. Pierre?”
“Affirmative,” Dr. Dumar said.
“Ah, before we go any further,” Dr. Perry interrupted, “I think we shall have to abide by a majority vote. Are there any objections to that?” He took the silence for assent and asked, “Arthur?”
“Affirmative,” Arthur said. “I’d follow Chuck anywhere.”
Chuck smiled at Arthur, feeling a warm inner glow start around his ribs.
“Denise?”
“Affirmative.”
“Pete?”
“Affirmative.”
“Mr. Masterson?”
“Negative,” Masterson said emphatically.
“Gardel?”
“Negative!”
Dr. Perry raised his eyebrows, then ran the palm of his hand over his slightly curving nose. “Ah, do we need a count?”
Dr. Dumar grinned and got to his feet. “I think we should get started,” he said. “Chuck, will you lead the way?”
They began moving again.
It was harder now because there were no beacons in the distance to indicate the route. Chuck worked his way through the growth with weary persistence, relying on a sense of direction of which he was none too sure. After awhile he invented a marker on the distant horizon — a slightly rounded hill fuzzy with evergreens. He kept this in sight always, substituting it for the twin white rocks that had once stood out clearly against the sky.
The fuzzy hill became a symbol to him. It stood for home and safety and security.
If he was right.
If he was wrong, it was a meaningless symbol — a hill that was no different from any of the other hills in the Jurassic period. He fervently hoped he was not wrong. The matter went beyond his own personal desires now. He had been given a vote of confidence from the entire group. They had as much as said, “Here, Chuck, it’s yours. We’re depending on you to get us out of this. We have complete faith in you and we’ll abide by any decision you make.” He shook his head glumly as he made his way through the dense undergrowth. He would have liked to share their confidence in him, but he couldn’t help thinking that he would never successfully lead them to the rendezvous site. He had the ominous feeling that they would continue to wander hopelessly until the land or the beasts finally claimed the entire party as victims.
The thought was not a cheerful one.
And almost as if nature was doing its best to match the mood in which Chuck found himself, the day, which had dawned with a clear blue sky, suddenly turned gray and dreary. A bone-penetrating dampness settled over the land, spreading a white mist that enshrouded the plants.
Chuck led the way. His trousers were soaked to the waist. The leaves of the plants seemed to acquire a slippery resiliency when they were wet. They slapped at him with almost deliberate maliciousness. They clutched at him with thorny fingers. They tore at his clothes with spiny claws. They showered cold water down on him. They grew across the earth in long hidden trailers that tripped him.
He didn’t stop the party.
They kept moving, with Chuck always in the lead, his eyes on the fuzzy, distant hill that was fast being swallowed by the spreading mist.
Eventually he forgot where he was.
It was almost as if someone had reached down into his body and yanked him out. He felt as if he were standing to one side and stupidly watching a person he knew to be himself go through the motions of fighting the pugnacious terrain. The party stretched behind him like the twisting tail of a kite.
No one complained. Even Masterson was silent as they threaded their slow, torturous way across the face of the earth.
The mist grew thicker, swirling around them like a thin snowstorm now. They grasped hands, struggling forward purposefully. The mist was like a tangible thing, a solid barrier that blinded them and dampened them, penetrating to the marrow, chilling the soul.
At last, even the fuzzy, evergreen-covered hill in the distance was swallowed up.
There was nothing any more. Nothing but an endless cast-iron sky overhead and a shifting, swirling mist that covered them like a soggy blanket. They stumbled over rocks, picking their way over the treacherous ground, fearful lest they tumble into a deep crevice or over the side of a steep rock fault.
Chuck called a halt. He rested one foot on a rock, his arm lying across his knee. Tiredly, he began to speak.
“It’s no good,” he said. “Everything is against us.”
Dr. Perry nodded his head, and his fingers sought the brown beard. He played with the thick hair as he spoke. “What now, Chuck? Where do we go from here?”
Chuck sighed wearily. “I don’t know. As long as this fog surrounds us, we can’t go on. Unless I can spot the hill again.”
“What hill?” Arthur asked.
“Why, the...” Chuck passed a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I...” He stopped and brought the hand over his face, almost as if he were washing some of the weariness away. “I’ve been using a hill on the horizon as a sort of substitute marker. Now, with this fog, I can’t see the hill any more.”