IN DESPERATE PERIL
Bobby stood the first watch, Fred the second, and Lee the last. Nothing
of any importance occurred during the night, although the swamp all
around them seemed teeming with life. Above the croaking of frogs and
the hum of night insects there rose at times a strange bellowing noise,
that sent shivers creeping over Bobby and Fred, and which they were at a
loss to explain. But next morning Lee told them the source of the
strange noise.
“What you heard were alligators,” said Lee. “There are lots of them in
this swamp, and we’ve got to look out for them. They’re pretty fierce,
and they’ll attack anything under the sun.”
“Gee!” said Bobby, “if I had known that, I think I’d have spent the
night up a tree. I could hear one pretty close while I was keeping the
fire going, too.”
“Probably he was attracted by the light of the fire,” said Lee. “But I
don’t think they’d bother any one on land, as a rule. But they’ll tackle
anything in the water, and if they once get a grip with those pointed
teeth of theirs, its all over for the one that’s caught. The alligator
just drags him down under the surface, waits until he’s drowned and then
drags him up on the nearest sandbank and swallows him at his leisure.”
“That’s fine—for the alligator,” muttered Fred, with a slight shiver
which was not all the result of the clinging mist. “I don’t think I’ll
do much swimming while we’re in this swamp.”
“I’d advise you not to,” said Lee. “I sure hate ’gators, but just the
same I wouldn’t mind finding a few of their eggs for breakfast.”
“Eggs!” exclaimed Bobby and Fred together.
“Certainly,” said Lee, laughing at their amazed look. “I don’t care for
them much as a rule, but one or two now wouldn’t be half bad.”
“Good-night!” exclaimed Fred. “What do they taste like, anyway?”
“Oh, they’re not so bad. They have a rather unpleasant musky taste, but
if you’re hungry enough you don’t mind that. The darkeys think they’re
fine, and spend a lot of time hunting them out.”
“Where do you find the eggs?” inquired Fred.
“The ’gators dig out holes in the sand or mud, fill them with eggs, and
then cover the whole thing over with more sand,” said Lee. “After a
while the heat of the sun hatches out the eggs, and then the mother
’gator takes charge of the little fellows and protects them until
they’re big enough to take care of themselves.”
“Well, I feel hungry enough now to eat an alligator egg omelet,” said
Bobby. “I think we’d better get started, and maybe we’ll run across one
of those cute little nests Lee was telling us about.”
After eating the last of the fish they had caught the day before, the
boys started out, intending to follow the river as nearly as possible.
But they soon found that the ground kept getting softer at every step
they took, and were forced to bear away from the stream, although still
keeping as near as possible to the right direction. Lee was more
experienced than the other boys in the matter of making progress over
this kind of treacherous footing, and he took the lead. On every side
dark pools of water oozed up through the quaking ground. Here and there
tussocks of grass had formed, and these offered the only footing to be
had at all. Even these were very soft and shaky, and it was necessary to
leap continually from one to the other in order to avoid sinking in. At
rare intervals some larger hillock then, usual would give the boys a
chance to rest a few minutes and get their breath, and it was on one of
these that they paused at last, panting and tired.
“Gee!” exclaimed Bobby, as he mopped at his streaming face. “A mile of
this is worse than ten miles on hard ground.”
“Harder, and a lot more dangerous,” agreed Lee, soberly. “One fall into
one of those green pools and you’d be done for. It would suck you down
so fast that nothing could save you.”
The heat was growing intense, and, aided by the rank steam that ascended
from the rotting vegetation, seemed almost unbearable. But the boys knew
that they had to keep on, because if darkness found them before they
reached some firmer ground, their fate would be sealed. After nightfall
they would be almost certain to fall into one of the green and stagnant
pools and be sucked down to a horrible death.
Even as the boys tried to rest and get their breath, they could feel
their feet slowly sinking into the muddy grass, and as they lifted their
feet pools of water formed in the depressions left by them.
“Guess it’s a case of ‘keep moving,’” said Fred, as one foot sank in to
his ankles and he pulled it out with difficulty. “This swamp is the last
place in the world I’d pick for a hike if I had my choice.”
“There’s no choice about this,” said Bobby, setting his lips grimly.
“We’re here, and we’ve got to get out just as soon as we can. Let’s go!”
Somewhat rested by their brief halt, they started on again. Suddenly
Lee, who was ahead, shouted a warning.
“We can’t get any farther this way!” he cried, as Bobby and Fred caught
up with him, and he pointed ahead. The boys saw a large stagnant pond,
covered with green scum, from which protruded the rotting trunks of
trees. At intervals around the bank lay what appeared to be other logs,
but even as they looked, one of these seeming logs stirred, and crawling
slowly through the ooze, flopped into the water with a loud splash.
“We’re blocked, sure enough,” said Bobby. “We’ll have to go back and try
some fresh path.”
“Looks that way,” assented Lee. “And I hope we find some bit of solid
ground soon, fellows, because I’m pretty near all in. I can’t go much
further.”
For the first time the boys realized the deadly danger in which they
stood. The strenuous exertions necessary to keep away from being
swallowed up by the black mud, the terrific heat, and the deadly gases
that rose continually from the rotting vegetable matter, were all
combining to sap their strength. And if that once gave out they realized
there was no alternative but death in the clinging, suffocating mud.
Bobby felt his own heart sink, but he showed nothing of this in his
manner as he said: “Ah, we’ll be all right in a little while, Lee. We’re
bound to hit dry ground pretty soon. Keep a stiff upper lip and we’ll
get through right enough.”
“Well, you’d better set the pace, and I’ll do my best to keep up,”
returned the Southern boy.
Accordingly, Bobby started off, followed by Lee, with Fred last. Bobby
had become somewhat used to picking his way over the grass tussocks by
this time, and in addition he seemed to have a sort of instinct which,
told him what path to take and which to avoid. Under his guidance they
made better progress, and after a time Fred remarked:
“I may be only dreaming, but it seems to me that the ground is getting a
little firmer. What do you fellows think?”
“I reckon it is,” panted Lee. “I’ve heard the darkeys say there was an
island in the swamp somewhere, and maybe we’re getting near it.”
Sure enough, they soon spied higher ground ahead of them, with some
trees growing on it. The sight gave them fresh courage, and they
struggled gamely on, until at last came a time when they could put foot
to ground without feeling it sink into slimy mud.