Promptness was indeed necessary, for it was fast growing dark. After a
hurried search Ted selected a little open spot which was comparatively
dry and covered with long grass. Within two or three feet stood a large
black-gum tree, which, Ted reflected, could be climbed easily in an
emergency; and close at hand was abundance of hemleaf and huckleberry
bushes. The tops of these could be broken and piled where the boys chose
to sleep, and the couch thus prepared, though not likely to suggest
down, would at least protect them from the damp ground.
Ted next began to collect fuel, which he should have done at first. The
two boys had scarcely begun this task when it became so dark that no
object more than three feet distant could be distinctly seen. Dry wood
appeared to be very scarce, and even when they had finally started a
small fire the prospect of keeping it burning throughout the night was
more than doubtful. However, it gave them light whereby to break brush
and gather Spanish moss for their bed, and it enabled Ted to dry his wet
trousers.
To attempt to butcher and broil the duck under present circumstances
seemed too great an undertaking and so for supper they had only the
sweet and tender roots of young palmetto shoots; after partaking of
which unsatisfactory sustenance they found a degree of comfort in
vigorously chewing sweetgum scraped from a neighboring tree. And when
they lay down to sleep, covering themselves with moss, they were
thankful to be warm and dry, even if still hungry.
"I think I understand now," said Ted, before they lay down by the dying
fire. "I think we are in the Okefinokee. We came in without knowing it."
"And we'll never get out," groaned Hubert.
"Oh, yes we will. I've noticed that things come out all right after a
while if you keep trying," said Ted philosophically. "But before we do
get out we may have to tramp around a long time, and, maybe we'll find
the slackers' camp. I wish we could. I'd like to talk to them and see
if I couldn't persuade them----"
"They'd only laugh at you," interrupted Hubert, "and they might get mad
and cuff you around. Better let them alone."
"Sometimes I think they might," said Ted, "but when I want to do
anything very much and feel afraid of getting hurt I say to myself,
'Never mind; they can't do any more to you than to kill you, and there's
another world to come after this,' and I go ahead. Sometimes I go ahead
when I'm awfully afraid."
"You can put up a big bluff, then, for you never seem afraid," said
Hubert. "Maybe they'll start to hunt for us by morning," he added
hopefully, abruptly changing the subject.
"Not if Aunt Clarissa thinks we've gone to Cousin Jim's in town, and it
might be two weeks before she found out we weren't there," said Ted,
regretting his speech the moment it was uttered.
"Oh, I forgot," groaned Hubert, with starting tears. "We'll never get
out of this swamp."
"We'll soon find our way," insisted Ted. "Anyhow, it does no good to
fret. It does harm. I've found that it pays to keep hoping. Maybe I'd
be different if I'd had a mother to pet me up and make me soft. It's
great to have a sweet mother, but if you don't have one you learn a lot
of things for yourself."
Hubert made no response and Ted fell silent. Presently the heavy
breathing of the younger boy showed that he was asleep, but Ted lay
awake a long while. The fire was now practically out and the darkness
was intense, but it was a clear night and an occasional star could be
seen through the overhanging foliage. After silently reciting the prayer
he had been taught to repeat at night, Ted lay close to Hubert, trying
to still anxious thought and sleep, but at every sound made in the brush
by some little restless forest dweller, bird or beast, at every
freshening of the night breeze in the leaves, he would start up and
listen, his active imagination peopling the gloom about them with
nameless and sometimes fearful shapes.
Anything definite and distinctly recognizable, permitting no vague and
disturbing conjecture, was welcome, and so Ted's strained attention
somewhat relaxed when an owl alighted in the black-gum, lifted its eerie
voice, and with insistent repetition seemed to
demand--"_Who-who-who-all?_"
Finally the boy fell into deep slumber. Some hours later he was awakened
by feeling Hubert move and hearing his voice close to his ear:
"Ted, Ted, wake up! I heard something."
Ted was wide awake in a moment. Listening intently he heard a stealthy
footfall, then another and another, suggesting that an animal of some
size was guardedly encircling the camp. The sounds appeared to come from
points little more than thirty feet away.
"Let's climb that tree!" proposed Hubert excitedly. "It may be a panther
and it may jump on us."
A twig snapped under the foot of the prowling animal and panic seized
both boys. Grasping his gun, Ted leaped to his feet and bounded toward
the tree, which Hubert was already climbing. After passing up his gun,
Ted followed nimbly. Lodged in the branches of the black-gum some
twenty-five feet from the ground, the boys listened intently, but now
all was still. The marauder appeared to have been frightened in turn,
and had either retreated or had squatted and was remaining quiet.
Ted began to repent of their hasty action, suggesting in a whisper that
it would have been better if they had stayed where they were and built
up the fire. "You remember what Uncle Walter said about fighting 'em
with fire," he reminded Hubert, adding, with a view to comfort the
younger boy: "Maybe it was nothing but an old cow anyhow."
But Hubert would not consent to descend from the tree, and so Ted made
himself as comfortable as possible among the spreading branches near the
tree's main stem.
Waiting thus, wide awake and watchful, he soon noted with great relief
that day was breaking. The welcome light that slowly descended and
gradually dissipated the darkness of the swamp brought good cheer. With
a laugh on his lips Ted climbed down from their perch and was
reluctantly followed by Hubert.
"We must go back on our tracks to the lake," proposed Ted, "go all
around it carefully, make sure of the right path, and start off toward
home. If we have good luck, we may get there by dinner time."
Hubert now espied the hatchet near the bed of leafy boughs and picked it
up. They then observed that the ground was covered with feathers, with
here and there a few fragments of small bones, and recollected the duck
which Ted had shot. It was plain that the animal that had visited them
during the night had enjoyed a feast at their expense.
"You see, that was all it was after," laughed Ted.
The boys started off cheerfully on the backward trail. For the first
half mile it led over soft spongy earth, wherein their tracks were
easily seen; but by and by they reached a tract of many acres dotted
with clumps of palmettos, where the ground was firm and thickly covered
with wiregrass. Here the trail was soon lost. After some time spent in a
vain attempt to find it, they pushed forward in what appeared to be the
right general direction only to lose all sense of even this in
consequence of the excitement following an exciting event.
As Ted expressed it afterward, they "ran right up on a bear." The
creature was engaged in pulling up young palmetto shoots and eating the
sweet and tender part near the root. After each pull it would rear up on
its hind legs and look cautiously over the brush in every direction. So
when Ted and Hubert stepped into view the bear saw them on the instant
and bolted, crashing loudly through the tangle of underbrush. The two
boys took one long look and then fled in the opposite direction, not
quite sure that the beast was pursuing them, but uncomfortably certain
that their bird-guns would be scant protection.
Their panic over, they came to a halt, Ted laughing nervously and
remarking that the bear was "worse scared than we were." As to this
Hubert had his doubts, and he was hardly able to force a smile. Looking
about him upon totally unfamiliar landscape, he declared, with a catch
in his voice, that they were "lost now for sure."
"No, we're not, for there's the lake!" cried Ted, espying a sheet of
water some distance ahead of them.
Then they hurried forward hopefully, but only to find that the little
sheet of water, though much like it, was not the one wherein the duck
had been shot. It was now quite evident that they were lost several
miles within the borders of the Okefinokee and ignorant which way to
turn. In the full realization of this Hubert had to struggle very hard
to keep back his tears. As for Ted, he forgot all about his plan of
seeking out the camp of the slackers and thought only of finding their
way home.
He was not too disheartened, however, to neglect a chance which offered
for a shot at some ducks, and was highly elated on discovering that he
had killed two and that they were within reach. Having had no breakfast
and being now ravenously hungry, they halted at a little stream that ran
into the marshy lake, built a fire, and butchered one of the ducks. The
novel experiment of cutting slices from the fat bird, suspending them
from the points of long sticks, and holding them close to the coals, was
persisted in until their hunger was satisfied. They were glad enough to
feast upon the flesh of the duck thus roasted, although it was rendered
unsavory by the lack of salt.
"The thing for us to do, Hu," said Ted, as they rose, more cheerful, to
move on, "is to keep pushing ahead where the swamp seems open. In that
way we ought to find our way out after a while."
Following the line of least resistance as proposed, they tramped several
miles and then, about mid-afternoon, were confronted by a seemingly
impenetrable jungle.
"We'll have to turn back now," said Hubert dolefully.
"No, let's go right ahead," said Ted, pushing on. "We may have to travel
more slowly, but we can get through, and maybe when we _do_ get through
we'll be out of the swamp. I think from what I've heard that the
Okefinokee has a thick rim just like this round a great deal of it."
In reluctantly consenting, Hubert urged that they first provide
themselves with "some fat lightwood splinters" for kindling. "It's low
and wet down in there," he said, "and if we don't get through before
night, we'll need them to make a fire."
This prudent suggestion having been acted upon, Ted pushed ahead,
carrying his gun and the hatchet, and Hubert followed, his little gun
in his right hand and the bundle of kindling under his left arm.
The jungle evidently covered thousands of acres and was at points so
dense as to be penetrable only where wild animals had made their trails.
Thorny brambles often an inch thick and running great lengths added to
the discomfort and difficulty of forcing a passage. Everywhere the
ground was wet, sometimes boggy, and in great part covered with water
varying in depth from two inches to two feet. Often the hatchet had to
be used before they could move forward a step, and they soon bitterly
regretted their decision to force their way through. But the hope of
accomplishing the task led Ted on until, as the sun declined, it became
evident that they would be unable to retrace their steps before night.
When little more than half an hour of daylight was left the boys halted
to make camp at a point where the jungle was less dense. Even here the
water rose above their ankles and the prospect was a very gloomy one.
Ted had often heard how belated Okefinokee hunters had been compelled to
build sleeping platforms whereon to spend the night, and this the boys
set about doing without delay.
Selecting two saplings about eight feet apart, the boys cut into them
with the hatchet, at a point about three feet above the water, until
they toppled and fell over in the same direction. These saplings, being
young and stringy, did not entirely break from their stumps, and, while
slanting gradually down to the water, offered a support to the smaller
poles and brush which were bridged across from one to the other. Even
with the addition of moss for bed and covering, the resting-place thus
secured was far from comfortable, but was to be preferred to spending
the night in a tree.
With their guns beside them, and their "fat" splinters and matches
within reach, the boys lay down, thankful at least that it was as yet
too early in spring for moccasins and other reptiles to be abroad.
Lying on an uncomfortable pile of boughs three feet above the stagnant
water, in hunger and darkness, with little hope of finding their way
home, their distress of body and mind was very severe. Hubert broke down
at last and sobbed, refusing to be comforted, although Ted made a
manful effort to do so.
"We'll get out of the swamp to-morrow or find the slackers' camp," he
predicted, with pretended cheerfulness.
"We'll starve to death," wailed Hubert.
"You'll see," persisted Ted. "It will be one thing or the other, and
either will suit me."
But they spoke little after they lay down, and that little in
whispers;--as if fearing to betray their presence to some formidable
beast that might lurk in the neighborhood. They were so exhausted that
they soon fell into deep sleep.
V
If there was any tramping of wild animals about their camp that night,
the boys did not hear it. They slept soundly until dawn and were then
awakened by the sweet and cheering voice of a wood-thrush. They lost no
time in quitting their gloomy camp-site, pushed steadily forward and
about nine o'clock, to their great delight, emerged from the jungle.
They now ascended the slope of an open pine ridge, upon which, at a
distance of some three or four hundred yards apart, they noted three
Indian mounds about fifteen feet in height. Ted reminded Hubert of his
prediction, believing that they were out of the swamp at last. But a
two-hours' tramp was sufficient to convince him that they were merely on
an island about three miles long by about one mile in width, and that
they were probably farther away from the Ridgway farm than ever.
In the course of their tramp a flock of wild turkeys, some eight or ten
in number, fluttered out of their path and ran rapidly ahead of them,
too little alarmed at first to fly. Both boys fired into them and one
turkey remained struggling on the ground when the others rose. Each boy
thought he had bagged the game, but they were too hungry to waste time
in dispute. They hurried with their prize to the nearest water, built a
fire and were soon broiling substantial slices of the great bird on the
coals. And after they had eaten their fill, in spite of their
misfortunes they became quite cheerful.
"Now, Hu, don't let's worry any more," advised Ted. "We are going to
come out all right and we are having a wonderful time. Some of it is
pretty tough, I know, but when it's all over we'll be so _proud_ of what
we've been through! The boys who hang around home and just do the same
old things, will wish awfully, when they hear about it, that they had
been with us."
The thought of winning renown among his playmates at home as a great and
experienced adventurer was distinctly comforting to Hubert, helping him
to resolve to resist fear in future and meet discomfort more
cheerfully. The boys felt better still when presently they made a
discovery which awakened new hope. At the farther end of the island,
where a dense "hammock" growth sloped down and joined hands with the
swamp, which here took on the form of a deeply flooded forest, they
found a boat--a small bateau scarcely capable of floating more than
three persons. Evidently it had been lying idle for some time. It was
half full of water, but when this was bailed out it showed no serious
leaks and carried the two boys safely.
"That must lead out to a lake," said Ted, indicating the narrow
boat-road which could be seen winding away through the flooded forest.
"And once on that lake, we may find our way out of the swamp. Anyhow, we
may meet some of the slackers. Let's start right off!"
Hubert was loath to leave the dry open pine woods of the island and said
so, but Ted convinced him that there was nothing to be done but to push
on.
The boat-road had evidently been a good deal traveled and it was not
very difficult to make headway, although the two paddles they had
picked up were little more than two long sticks. As Ted had surmised,
the boat-road led after a few hundred yards into a long and very narrow
forest-bordered lake, where feeding fishes of considerable size were
"striking" here and there in a way to tempt the most indifferent angler.
Hubert wanted to stop to fish, but Ted said that if they were to get
through by night they couldn't spare the time.
They did stop and drift, however, when they caught sight of a large
animal swimming across their path about two hundred yards ahead. The
boys grabbed their guns, but knew better than to waste bird shot on such
big game. They merely watched the swimming creature in some alarm until
it disappeared in the flooded forest. Hubert was sure it was a panther,
but Ted said it might be only a lynx, perhaps even only the lesser lynx,
commonly called the wild-cat. In any case, he thought, it was better to
"let it go" and not "try to stir up a fight," armed as they were with
mere bird-guns.
While they discussed the matter, drifting, Hubert unwound a fishing line
he took out of his pocket. It was provided with a fly which had seen
service in North Carolina trout streams, and he threw it as far out as
he could. To his astonishment it was taken almost immediately and he
found himself pulling a large and game fish toward the boat. When
finally lifted over the boat's side, it proved to be a black bass
weighing about five pounds. Both boys were now eager for more such
sport, but Ted resisted the temptation and dipped his paddle vigorously.
"We've got to get somewhere before night," he said, looking at the
declining sun. "Maybe we can come back here some time and try 'em
again."
At the farther end of the lake the boat-road began again and wound on
its way as before through seemingly endless flood and forest. At many
points they found it more difficult to force the boat forward, but the
scenery was the same. Now a long winding reach of black or wine-colored
lagoon bordered by trees standing knee-deep in the flood and flying a
thousand ragged flags of gray moss; now a tortuous trail among the
crowding trunks of both standing and fallen trees, among masses of reeds
full of the drift of fallen branches, beneath low-hanging boughs
dipping their finger-like leafage into the water, and tangles of vines
trailing down to the very surface of dark still pools. Then more and
more of the thin-leafed cypresses towering on high with some of their
banyan-like "knees" rising from the wine-colored flood a dozen feet from
the parent stem, and others lying in wait a few inches below the
surface, less perilous to the swamp boat than a sunken reef to the ocean
ship, yet the most stubborn of all snags and the source of much labor
and delay.
By the time the boys had laboriously got clear of the third "knee" upon
which their boat had stalled, and had paddled, polled and pushed
altogether three or four miles, the sun was down and they found it
necessary to prepare for the night.
"I _said_ we ought to stay on that island," complained Hubert, as he
looked around into the darkening aisles of the flooded forest.
"Well, I didn't want to be a prisoner there if you did," retorted Ted.
They bailed out what water had leaked into the bateau, broke brush and
gathered moss for their bed, then ate an insufficient portion of
broiled turkey which they had the forethought to bring with them. They
felt safer in their boat, adrift in a tree-bordered lagoon, even if
dark, mysterious foliage did overhang them. Perhaps this was why Hubert,
after they had lain down and covered themselves with moss, permitted
himself to refer sarcastically to Ted's prediction of the night before.
"I thought you were to be out of the swamp or get to the slackers' camp
by to-night," he observed, with a yawn.
"Oh, give me another day, can't you!" retorted Ted, and, turning over,
he fell asleep.
They were still asleep when the dawn came down and, in slow, wondrous
miracle, transformed the thick darkness of the swamp into light. The
wood-thrush lifted its sweet voice in welcome of the new day, and a
lovely calm seemed to rest upon the great Okefinokee.
But the heavenly peace of morning was not everywhere, for directly above
the sleeping boys, close upon a limb of the tree under which their
drifting boat had come to rest, crouched a beast which looked down upon
them with a fixed, dilating stare of hate. The animal was of a grayish
brown that went pale along its belly. Its body looked long yet was short
in proportion to the length of its powerful legs. It had a round head
and face, pointed ears, yellow-green eyes and whitish-brown whiskers.
Its tail was a mere thick brown stump that stood up stiffly when it
moved an inch or two as if to get a better look, sinking its razor-edged
claws deep into the green bark.
The watching lynx longed fiercely to drop upon Ted's neck, so soft and
red and helpless, but was held motionless by its fear of the most
terrible of all its enemies--mysterious, wonderful man. Nevertheless,
seeing needed food, the beast obeyed an impulse stronger than fear and
leaped, alighting, not upon Ted, but upon the black bass at the foot of
the couch of broken boughs.
The boat rocked. The boys started up, blinking. The lynx growled
fiercely, its teeth fastened in its prey. And then, after another and
mightier leap, which rocked the boat still more, it became a mere shadow
in the brush on their right, and was gone.
Shouting, questioning, gesticulating, and almost losing their balance,
the boys sat down quickly in fear of upsetting the bateau.
"What is it?" cried Hubert. "It got my fish!"
"A wild-cat maybe," said Ted, "but it seemed bigger than I thought they
were and I didn't know they had a stumpy tail."
"It had fierce whiskers just like the Kaiser's," asserted Hubert. "Look
here, Ted," he added solemnly, "we've got to get out of this place or
something will eat us up."
Then Ted began to laugh. And as there was nothing else to be done, there
being no food, they picked up their paddles and started, breakfastless,
on their way.
Several hours later they emerged from the flooded forest and saw before
them an extensive open marsh filled with long rushes, "bonnets," and
open pools, and dotted with small islands, the trees of which were hung
with long gray drifts of Spanish moss. As far as the eye could reach,
straight ahead, to the right or to the left, nothing else was visible.
With increasing weariness and hunger the boys paddled and poled about
this marsh until late in the day, imagining that they were pursuing the
same general course, but in reality wandering widely in the confusion
of rounding the many islets. At last, in the late afternoon, they saw
far ahead the green tops of some tall pines and gradually worked their
way toward them, surmising that they stood either upon a large island or
the mainland. As they approached within half a mile, a shallow marsh,
free of the confusing islets, opened before them. In the shallower water
here the rushes and water-mosses seemed to thicken steadily as they
neared the shore, and it became more and more difficult to force the
bateau through or over them, although the boys now followed the windings
of a clearly-defined boat-trail.
Finally, within some three hundred yards of the shore or the wall of
woods indicating an island, they were compelled to step out and drag the
boat after them, sinking now to the knee, now to the waist, in slimy
moss, mud and water. Entering the border of trees, they pushed forward,
still in water knee-deep, for about a hundred yards, before they reached
a landing-place where two boats, somewhat larger than their own, were
moored.
"There's somebody here, _sure_," said Ted, looking about hopefully.
A well-beaten path led upward through the dense "hammock" between the
swamp proper and the pine ridge composing the island upon which the boys
had landed. Under magnolia and bay trees and through tall underbrush of
swamp-cane the path led to the top of the slope, where, some two hundred
yards from the boats, the boys found themselves in a small clearing,
beyond which the open pine land of the island stretched away
monotonously.
Near the center of the clearing stood a house, built of rough pine logs,
elevated some twelve feet from the ground on stilt-like posts; and over
a fire to the right of this structure bent a man's figure. Evidently he
was cooking his evening meal, for the boys caught the delicious odor of
frying meat.
"Maybe he'll give us something to eat," said Hubert wistfully.
Just then the man stood erect, and they saw that he was a negro in rough
soiled clothes. A moment later he turned his face toward them and they
recognized a care-free, good-natured type of young black man with which
they had had abundant acquaintance.
The boys hesitated no longer. The negro heard their steps and looked up,
the first bewildered expression on his black, sweat-shining face
changing to one of pleased astonishment. He came forward to meet them.
"W-huh you boys come fum?" he cried. Then, his eyes fastening upon Ted's
muddy uniform, he continued, giggling delightedly: "And one of 'em is a
little soldier! Well, if dat don't beat all! _Who_ you boys?"
Ted staggered slightly and sat down heavily on the grass.
"Please give us something to eat and then we'll tell you," he said in a
weak voice.
The negro showed instant sympathy. "Is you boys perishin' for sump'n to
eat?" he asked, regretfully. "Lem me git you sump'n quick!"
He rushed about and within less than two minutes had piled hot meat,
fish and bread on palmetto leaves placed before the boys where they sat
on the billowy wiregrass.
"You boys sho kin eat," he commented, grinning, as he watched them
devour the good food. "I des know you was most starvin'. You kin eat
all dat and have plenty mo'."
After Ted had satisfied his hunger, felt strengthened, and had thanked
the negro gratefully and very politely, he asked:
"What camp is this?"
"Eight young white mens been campin' yuh since las' summer and dey brung
me in to cook dey vittles. I'm July Martin."
"Oh--this is where those slackers are hiding to keep out of the war?"
said Ted, stating a recognized fact in the form of a question.
"Dis is it, but don't tell 'em I tole you. Dey's mighty partic'lar to
keep people fum knowin' where dey is."
"How about you?" asked Ted. "Negro men are being drafted for war
service, too."
"Who, me?" laughed July, slightly uneasy. "Well, you see, when Mr. Buck
Hardy come an' tole me he want me in yuh to cook for 'em, he say if I
didn't do it dem draft-bode people would grab me up an' send me to de
waw, and I was powerful worried. You see, de waw come so sudden; it bus'
right in my face, like; an' it look like I des _had_ to take time to git
in de notion to stan' up an' let dem Germans shoot at me. So I tuck dis
chance to make a honest livin' in a quiet place. I's makin' a livin'.
Dey takes up a c'lection and pays me wages for cookin' and doin' dey
dirty work. And, 'sides all dat; Mr. Buck Hardy say I des got to come in
yuh wid 'em an' he wouldn' lem me say no."
Both boys smiled broadly, but at the conclusion of this prodigiously
amusing speech Ted asked:
"Don't you call yourself a free man? Don't you think it's bad enough to
be a slacker without putting the blame on somebody else?"
In ordinary times July would have boasted of his freedom to come and go
as he pleased, but now he desired to persist in the persuasion that he
was not a free agent.
"But Mr. Buck Hardy tole me," he argued, giggling uneasily,--"he tole me
if I did n' come in yuh he and dem yuther young white mens would give me
de devil, an' he tole me if dem draft-bode people got me and sont me to
de waw dem Germans would cut my head off."
"Oh, confess that you are an out-and-out slacker and be done with it,"
said Ted. "That's the only honest thing to do, you know."
"Look yuh, boy," said July, his good-humored face showing irritation,
"you better put a bridle on dat tongue o' yours. I like to see a smart
boy like you wid plenty o' spunk, and I ain't mad wid you, but lem me
give you a piece o' advice: if you go talkin' dat-a way to Mr. Buck
Hardy and dem young white mens, you gwine to git into trouble. You sho
will."
"Who is Mr. Buck Hardy?" asked Hubert, diplomatically, prudently
deciding that it was time to check Ted by changing the subject.
"He's de ring-leader. He's de cock o' de walk in dis camp."
"What is the name of this island?" asked Ted, looking around.
"I hear 'em say, but I disremember," answered July with seeming
sincerity.
"A mighty good name for it would be Deserters' Island,'" remarked Ted,
rising to join Hubert, who now stood by the fire drying his wet
trousers.