He would have bet good money that he could walk straight to the car even though darkness hid it from him until he came within hailing distance.
But daylight found him still below the higher slope of the ridge, and Casey was very tired.

He had been walking all day, remember, and he had missed his supper because he wanted to eat it with the lake behind him.

He did not walk in a straight line.

He was too near exhaustion to forge ahead as was his custom.

Now he was picking his way carefully so as to shun the washes out of which he must climb, and the rock patches where he would stumble, and the thick brush that would claw at him.