WILL DOES IT
"Talk to me about babes in the woods!" gasped jerry.
He was staring at the enormous rattler, that still kept up a buzzing with
his rattle, and which sound poor Will had believed was made by a locust.
"Shoot the thing, Jerry! You've been wise enough to fetch your gun!" said
Frank.
"That just suits me. Have you got all the snapshots you want, Will?"
demanded Jerry, falling on one knee and elevating his rifle.
"There! He's reforming! You see, he did actually think of me, for once.
Oh, yes. I snapped him three times. I rather think he didn't like the
sound, for he darted his head at me wickedly. I suspected it might be a
rattlesnake, though," replied the photographer calmly.
Then came a sharp report.
"Keep back!" called Jerry as the snake's folds suddenly flew out; but its
head was almost blown from its body, and there was no more danger to
be feared.
"I'll get the rattle, to remind you of your narrow squeak, Will," said
Jerry.
"That's kind of you, now; but I rather think you are getting it to remind
you of your first shot at game with the new rifle," remarked Will.
The others had by now come up to stare at the enormously thick snake,
with more or less of a shudder.
"How about having that skin, to make a belt or something?" suggested
Bluff.
"You're welcome to it, if you can take it off and properly dry if; but
you're so squeamish about snakes I'd hardly think you'd care for the
job," remarked Jerry.
"I'll see. I heard Nellie say she always wanted a belt made out of a skin
like that, and perhaps I may try to get it," concluded Bluff.
"Are we going to proceed, or put in a day around here, fellows?" asked
Frank.
"I say stay. We may not get another chance at a swamp before we reach the
open gulf, and I want to snap a dozen fine views off around here. I mean
to take the little dinghy and push into the swamp a bit," ventured Will.
"Say! he's getting real venturesome, ain't he?" laughed Jerry.
"Next thing he'll be getting lost, and we'll have a deuce of a time
finding him again. Make him take a compass along, Frank, and that old
revolver of yours," growled Bluff.
"Don't you worry about me, now. Perhaps you'll find I'm able to look out
for myself far better than any of you give me credit for," returned the
other, with a show of indignation.
He went aboard to get ready, taking another roll of films along, for, as
he remarked, there could be no telling what might turn up.
"Try to keep your wits about you, Will, and don't venture too far away.
If in doubt, fire the pistol three times, and we'll answer you," said
Frank, who was not wholly easy about the exploring trip.
"Got some grub along?" asked Bluff, for that was a very essential part of
any undertaking, in his eyes.
"Yes to everything. So-long, fellows! Don't let anybody run away with the
motor-boat while I'm gone." And, with a merry laugh, Will dipped his
paddle into the water, sending the little dinghy gliding toward the more
quiet lagoons of the swamp.
He was soon under the spell of his surroundings. These were so weird that
the ardent photographer really forgot everything else. As he paddled
along he saw a dozen pictures around him, and when he thought the light
fair enough he took a time exposure.
So an hour passed away. In all that time he had seen no evidence of life,
save a few alligators, some wary 'coons, a 'possum hanging from a tree by
its tail, and some birds, mostly crows or bluejays.
In the water he had noted a variety of snakes. Remembering what Frank had
told him about these gliding reptiles, Will was careful not to bother
with them; for in all probability they were water moccasins, whose bite,
if not so deadly as that of the diamond-back rattler, would cause a wound
that might never heal, since it seems to put a certain poison into the
flesh that brings about a running sore.
Perhaps he ought to go back. He had succeeded in taking all of half a
dozen good views, besides several of which he was not so certain.
Then it dawned upon Will that, after all, he was not so sure that he knew
which way he ought to go. True, he had a compass, and could tell where
the north lay, as well as all other cardinal points, but the question
was, did the camp lie east or south of where he happened to be just then?
He cudgeled his brains to try to remember, so as to place himself.
"Say! Perhaps I am lost, all right," he remarked, with a laugh, for it
did not look at all serious just then, but more like a joke.
Then he suddenly remembered that he had the only boat.
"If they wanted to hunt for me they couldn't do it. To move about in this
swamp without a boat would be impossible; that is, for a stranger; and
the launch could never come here. Guess I'll shoot up a few and get my
points."
So saying, he banged away three times.
Presently there was an answering series of shots, but very far distant.
"Whew! I didn't dream I'd gone so far," he said, and having noted the
direction from which the sounds seemed to come, he started to paddle
hard.
After half an hour's work he halted, tired, and perspiring freely.
"This is no fun, I tell you. Wonder if I'm anywhere near? I might try
again."
This time there was no answer. The wind possibly kept those in camp from
hearing the fusilade. Will began to grow alarmed. It was now high noon,
and he felt hungry, so he disposed of the lunch he had carried, at
Bluff's suggestion. Incidentally, he blessed his chum for thinking of
such a thing.
After that he paddled some more, until he grew very tired.
"This begins to look some serious. What if I have to spend a night here?
Gee! I won't like that much, I guess. Hello! What's that over yonder?
Seems to me it might be some sort of a shack, made of palmetto leaves.
Wonder who lives there? Ugh! What if it turns out to be that desperado
the sheriff is hunting--Bob?"
The idea oppressed him, and he felt like paddling away; but his case was
desperate, and he determined to creep up and try to ascertain just who
lived in the primitive-looking native shack.
So, finding a chance to land on the little island among the dark waters
of the lagoon, he started to advance cautiously in the direction of the
dwelling, which was really the first Will had seen made of leaves.
In spite of his fears, the fever of picture-taking was so strong in his
breast that he had to stop once and level his camera at the picturesque
shack. Then the familiar click announced that he had secured what he
wanted.
Perhaps that sound may have reached other ears, and been misconstrued to
mean something else. Will might have realized this much could he have
seen the dark figure creeping up on him, and lying flat on his stomach
most of the time.
As the boy reached the lonely shack he was about to put out his hand in
an endeavor to draw aside some of the dry leaves so that he might peep
within, when, without warning, a heavy form fell upon him, flattening him
out on the sand.