CHAPTER XIII.

MORE TROUBLE ALL AROUND.

“I tell you, Thad, it was all a mistake; we went and buried the wrong

thing after all, and I don’t care who knows it.”

Davy looked fixedly at the back of Bumpus’ head while he was saying

this, for they were once more in the boats, moving along, and Bumpus had

the bow, then Step Hen, Davy and Thad the steersman, in the stern.

“Now what’s ailing you, Davy?” demanded Step Hen; “seems like you’re

never happy any more.”

“Well, if you’d only shake off that cold Bumpus gave you, so you could

get that onion scent, like I do this minute, chances are you wouldn’t be

feelin’ any too happy either,” lamented Davy.

“Well, I declare I thought that was all buried with the onions,” said

Bumpus, trying to twist his fat neck so he could look around, but

failing.

“All right, but it wasn’t, all the same,” avowed the complaining one,

“’cause it’s just as rank as ever. Wait till I tell Giraffe when we go

ashore at noon, and say, you’ll see a mad fellow then, with all them

onions sacrificed for nothing, and him that fond of them, too.”

“You have got the greatest imagination of anybody I ever saw,” declared

Bumpus, indignantly. “To me the air is as sweet as anything.”

“That’s because you ain’t got a big chump wearing a greasy old suit

asitting right to windward of you,” burst out Davy.

“Step Hen, ain’t the air all right?” demanded the accused one.

“You’ll have to pass me, boys; I’m out of the smelling class right now.

I don’t believe I could even smell a rat, as they say. Fight it out

between you, but don’t drag me in. Some other time I’ll act as judge and

jury, but not to-day.”

“Well, I know what I know,” Davy went on to say stubbornly, “and if me’n

Giraffe can manage it there’ll be a scout alookin’ a hundred per cent

cleaner than he is now, by to-morrow morning.”

“Better look out,” warned Bumpus, belligerently.

“Lookout yourself, where you’re running us,” cried Davy.

Somehow or other the boat left its course and scraped into the

overhanging branches. Perhaps this was only a clever little trick on the

part of Thad, calculated to break up the dispute between the two scouts,

which was rapidly becoming rather acrimonious.

It had the expected result, if this was Thad’s design, for all of them

found it necessary to scramble around, using both hands to protect their

eyes from the intruding branches, so that when the boat finally came out

into the open again, Davy forgot to resume his discussion, and just

suffered in silence.

The alligator hunter, in his own boat, led the van of the procession.

With so clever and reliable a guide to depend on Thad wasted no time in

marking the way, for so long as Tom Smith stayed by them they did not

anticipate having any further trouble in getting out of the swamp.

Nevertheless, it had become second nature for Thad and Allan to take

mental notes of all things as they went along, a good habit that may

often prove valuable in the extreme.

No scout can afford to fail to keep all his senses on the alert when in

the woods or on the waters. Besides seeing many interesting things that

less observant lads would pass blindly by, he notices the lay of the

land, the direction of his course, and a multitude of queer formations

that may easily be recognized again in case of necessity.

Thad knew that they were going in a new direction, and had been ever

since starting out immediately after breakfast.

Undoubtedly Tom Smith had been considering the whole matter, after

learning all those important points connected with the case. He had

settled upon the region where they would be most apt to come upon the

man and girl whom Thad yearned to meet.

First of all the swamp hunter felt positive that those they sought could

not be anywhere along his haunts, because he must have come upon traces

of them while running his lines of traps.

In like manner he judged that they were not over at the other side of

the swamp, where the voodoo doctor had his cabin, and the strange shed

where the ignorant blacks gathered in the dark of the moon to carry on

their strange and uncouth religious ceremonies.

Having eliminated at least half of the flooded tract in this way

Alligator Smith knew just what territory he had to cover. And as Thad

more than suspected, he had undoubtedly laid a plan of campaign in his

mind, the first move in which he was even now carrying out.

Not knowing how soon they might find themselves in the neighborhood of

the parties they hoped to meet, the scout-master had given strict orders

that for the time being all manner of levity must be laid aside.

That meant Davy must not attempt to climb, monkey fashion, any trees

when they came to land; that Giraffe must tone down his loud voice;

Bumpus give up all thought of using his bugle, or even warbling a strain

of some favorite song—in fact a subdued air must take the place of the

boyish hilarity that as a rule reigned in their midst.

And had not his other little plan held good, no doubt Thad would have

speedily given Davy to know that he was making entirely too much noise.

After the little episode of the encounter with the branches, the forward

movement was continued for a while in almost absolute silence.

The dip of paddles, the drip of water as they were raised monotonously,

the gurgle of the boats’ passage—these were nearly the only faint sounds

heard in the swamp, which in places seems almost devoid of life.

Some noisy fish crows cawed at them while flying over, their sharp eyes

discovering the creeping canoes. A couple of buzzards sitting on a

branch of a dead tree, jumped into the air and went flapping away at

their near approach. There were always water moccasins, either gliding

down from the exposed roots of trees where they had been sunning

themselves, or coiling up in the water aggressively, until struck by the

sharp edge of a paddle blade, when they would writhe in agony, and sink.

It was getting more and more gruesome all the time, and Thad took notice

of numerous things that he had not seen before, in the other section of

the swamp.

Evidently the alligator hunter believed Thad was following the wrong

track for he had turned in another direction entirely. Perhaps the boat

that had made the numerous signs Thad was searching for and using as a

trail, had been that of Alligator Smith himself on his way in and out,

and not the one containing the mysterious man and girl.

But Thad was quite satisfied with what they had done. He believed that

in the end the hide hunter would take them where they wanted to go; and

more than that they could hardly ask.

The three boats were very close together as the midday hour drew near

when, without the least warning there sounded the report of a rifle from

some point not far away.

And the scouts not accustomed to being under fire, experienced a thrill

in the region of their hearts when every one heard the strange zip-zip

of a bullet cutting through the air just above their heads.

The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp · 第 13 / 28 章