I whistled, then halloed, but got no reply.

Then by working back and forth across the ridge I found what appeared to be a faint trail.

This I followed, lost and found again, and eventually, still higher up on another ridge, with a commanding outlook, I found Steele's hiding place.

He had not been there for perhaps forty-eight hours.

I wondered where he had slept.
Under a shelving rock I found a pack of food, carefully protected by a heavy slab.