Part 16 (1/2)

”Ten--ten--double ten--forty-five--fifteen hundred--are you all hid?”

shouted Billy in great glee and with an air of vast importance. And such whooping and running and hiding in far dark recesses as followed!

”Now's de time!” whispered July, when the fun was at its height, and he and Ted and Hubert had run off and squatted together behind the same clump of palmettos.

According to the plan agreed to, the negro was now to run down to the landing-place, step into the water and hide all the boats as far out in the thick growth of the submerged swamp as he dared to go, thus conveying the impression that the fugitives had escaped by way of the great marsh.

The course of the game now compelled the conspirators to separate and return to headquarters; but as soon as the next rush for cover was made the boys saw the negro dart away in the direction of the landing, and until he returned they played more enthusiastically and noisily than ever in order to distract attention from his absence. When he reappeared at last his trousers were wet to the knees, but this did not seem to attract notice. It was understood that the first rush for cover in the game after his return was to begin the dash for freedom.

So when the boys saw the negro again dart away along the path into the swamp-cane, they followed fast with throbbing hearts, arriving at the boat-landing before Billy had finished the last recitation of his ”rigmarole.” There Ted and Hubert were given their guns and July s.n.a.t.c.hed up a bucket of food--all of which he had cunningly conveyed thither since the beginning of the game. The negro promptly stepped into the water and bade the boys follow.

”Got to wade round a piece to fool dem dogs,” he whispered.

XV

July led the boys about fifty feet from the sh.o.r.e along the open boat-road, then turned to the right into the thick growth and skirted the island for several hundred yards before landing again. This was no trifling undertaking. The water in many places rose over their knees, and was thick with drift and moss; the bottom was often boggy, and the dense swamp growth forced them to a tortuous route. Moreover, little light descended from the moon among those crowding trees.

”Ten--ten--double ten!” they faintly heard Billy still shouting as they landed, glad to know that as yet their absence had not caused alarm.

Flight across the ”prairie” had been voted down because they could take only two boats and rapid pursuit would be inevitable. The trail leading out from Honey Island attracted them, but the boat trip thither was difficult and impossible to follow by night. So they had chosen the jungle trail leading from the lower end of Deserters' Island which the boys had located on the day they killed the wild-cat. The boats had been hidden and they had waded some distance in order to convey a wrong impression as to their real design and delay pursuit.

Halting to listen a few minutes after they landed, they distinctly heard the names of Ted and July called, and knew that at last they were missed. After a few minutes, as they hurried on their way, another shout reached them; and after a brief silence several sharp short yelps from the dogs were heard.

July leaped forward at the sound, urging the boys to haste. The darkness was bewildering until they emerged from the ”hammock” and gained the more open pine woods forming the backbone of the island. Here the moonlight filtered through the scattering tops of the tall pines and they could distinguish prominent objects fifty feet away. Even here, however, rapid headway was difficult owing to the blackjack thickets and crowding clumps of the fan-palmetto preventing a straight course. There was a faint trail leading for some three miles toward the lower end of the island, but there was no time to search for it, and they pushed ahead in the general direction as best they could.

An hour later, descending at last into the dense ”hammock” growth joining the swamp and the island's lower end, they halted to listen. All was deathly still, at least in the direction of the slackers' camp; but the quiet of the dark slumbering swamp in their front was suddenly broken by the dismal hoot of an owl.

Ted urged that they search for the jungle trail he and Hubert had located and, having found it, push far into the swamp before break of day; but July's courage now failed him and he objected. He said it was dangerous to push into the swamp at night, as indeed it was; that they might sink into a bog over their heads, might walk blindly into a nest of moccasins, or might be set upon by a panther.

”The great trouble is that you are both right,” said Hubert.

”Dem mens won't start down dis-a way till daylight,” said July. ”Dey won't find out we ain't in de boats till mawnin' an' we kin git a big start on 'em on de swamp trail. Less stay up dere in dem open pines till daybreak.”

They paused a few moments, undecided. Suddenly from the dark depths of the swamp in their front a strange cry was borne to their ears, an indescribable cry that made their flesh creep.

”What's that?” whispered Hubert.

”Mus' be a pant'er,” was July's whispered response.

The cry was heard again, more mysterious and startling than before. Then July bolted up the slope and was followed by the boys into the more open pine woods where the moonlight outlined all objects within their near view. July wanted to build a fire, but Ted would not consent to such imprudence, and finally it was agreed that they sit down with their backs to a large pine and watch until daylight.

All was now quiet and gradually they recovered from their fright. It was balmy spring weather, but they felt the chill of the night air. With a view to their greater comfort, July rose and tore down a couple of armfuls of Spanish moss that thickly wreathed a near-by blackjack thicket. When their legs were covered with this they were warm enough, but now found it increasingly difficult to sit upright and alert. Soon drowsiness overcame July, his head dropped on his breast and he began to snore. Ted roused him several times only to see him relapse into insensibility a few moments later.

Soon Hubert also was asleep, and, after watching for perhaps an hour longer, Ted himself succ.u.mbed. Later, as he struggled to rouse himself and opened his eyes, he saw that the moon was low and concluded that all was well. As he drifted back toward dreamland he thought he heard a yelp or two from distant dogs, but was too benumbed by drowsiness to give heed. Possibly the dogs of the far camp had started on the trail of some animal, but what could this matter to the three sleepers under the pine?

This half-thought itself was soon gone and the boy lay still, undisturbed by even a dream.

When Ted awoke it was daylight, and the dogs were leaping about him and barking. Several men were at hand, too; and the one nearest, who looked down at the sleepers with a triumphant grin, was Sweet Jackson.

They were caught! And what else could they have expected? The events of the night leaped forth from the boy's memory to shame him. If only they had not been such cowards and sleepyheads!

”Don't hurt them boys! You can't blame 'em for tryin' to get away,”