CHAPTER XIII
THE OASIS IN THE SWAMP
"Was that another fish-eating bird like a crane, Paul?" asked Seth.
"Sounded more like a human voice," Jotham put in.
"And that's what it was, or else we're all pretty much mistaken," wasthe verdict of the scoutmaster.
They turned their eyes toward the quarter from whence the sound hadappeared to come; and while some thought it had welled up just in a linewith this bunch of bushes, or it might be a leaning tree, still othersbelieved it had come straight up against the breeze.
Although there might be a few points difference in their guesses, stillit was noticeable that on the whole they were pretty uniform, andpointed almost due east from the spot where they stood.
"How about the prospect of getting through there?" queried Jotham,anxiously.
"Huh! couldn't be tougher, in my opinion," grumbled Seth.
"But if you look far enough, boys," remarked Paul, "you can see thatthere seems to be some firmer ground over there."
"Well, now, you're right about that, Paul," interjected Fritz, "I wasjust going to say the same myself. Made me think of what an oasis in adesert might look like, though to be sure I never saw one in my life."
"Solid ground, you mean, eh?" said Babe Adams, gleefully, "maybe, now,we won't be just tickled to death to feel the same under our trilbiesagain. This thing of picking your way along a slippery ledge about threeinches wide, makes me feel like I'm walking on eggs all the while. Onceyou lose your grip, and souse you go up to your knees, or p'raps yourneck, in the nasty dip. Solid ground will feel mighty welcome to me."
"Do we make a bee line for that quarter, Paul?" asked Andy.
"I'd like to see you try it, that's what," jeered Seth. "In three shakesof a lamb's tail you'd be swimming in the mud. Guess we have to followone of these crazy little hummocks that run criss-cross through theplace, eh, Frank?"
"Yes, you're right about that, Seth; but I'm glad to say I think oneruns over toward that spot; anyway, here goes to find out."
The young scoutmaster made a start while speaking, and the balance ofthe boys lined out after him.
"Keep close together, so as to help each other if any trouble comes,"was what Paul called out over his shoulder.
"Yes, and for goodness sake don't all get in at once, or we'll bedrowned. Think what an awful time there'd be in old Beverly, if six ofher shining lights went and got snuffed out all at once. Hey, quit yourpushin' there, Jotham, you nearly had me overboard that time."
"Well, I just _had_ to grab something, because one of my legs was in upto the knee. Oh! dear, what a fine time we'll have getting all this mudoff us," Jotham complained, from just behind.
But they were making pretty fair progress, all the same; and wheneverany of the boys could venture to take their eyes off the faintly markedpath they were following, long enough to send a quick look ahead, theysaw that the anticipated haven of temporary refuge loomed up closer allthe time.
At least this was encouraging, and it served to put fresh zeal in thosewho had begun to almost despair of ever getting across the acre of mudthat lay between the spot where they had last shouted, and the PromisedLand.
They were a cheery lot, taken as a whole; and what was even better, theybelieved in passing their enthusiasm along. So one, and then another,called out some encouraging words as the humor seized them.
Foot by foot, and yard by yard they moved along, Paul always cautiousabout venturing upon unknown ground; but finding a way to gain his end.
"Here's a little patch of solid ground, and we can rest up for a minuteor so," was the welcome announcement that came along the line of toilingscouts, and of course brought out various exclamations of delight.
It was indeed a great relief to be able to actually stand upright oncemore, so as to stretch the cramped muscles in their legs. Some of theboys even started to dancing, though Seth scorned to do anything likethis, and pretended to make all manner of fun of their contortions.
"Talk about them cranes doing funny stunts when they get together anddance," he remarked, "I guess, now, they haven't got anything on youfellers. Why, if anybody happened to see you carryin' on that way he'dsure believe the whole bunch had broke loose from some lunatic asylum.When I dance I like to have some style about it, and not just hop aroundany old way."
So Seth took it out in stretching his arms, and rubbing the tiredmuscles of his legs.
It was Jotham who made a discovery. In jumping around he had by chancewandered a dozen yards away from the rest, when he was heard to givevent to a cry; and the other boys saw him dart forward, as if to picksomething up from the ground.
"What is it, Jotham?" several cried in an eager chorus; for their nerveshad been wrought up to a high tension by all they had gone through, andthey felt, as Seth aptly expressed it, "like fiddle strings keyed tonext door to the snapping point."
For answer Jotham turned and came toward the rest. He was carrying someobject in his hand, and seemed to regard it with considerable interest,as though he felt that he had made an important discovery.
As he reached the others he held it up before the scoutmaster; and ofcourse all could see what it was.
"A piece of old yellow cloth!" exclaimed Seth, in disgust, "say, youmade all of us believe that you'd run across something worth while."
"How about it, Paul?" appealed Jotham, turning to the one whom hefancied would be more apt to understand, "don't this tell a story; andain't it a pretty good clue to run across?"
"I should say, yes," replied Paul, as he took the article in question inhis own hands, and felt of it eagerly, "because, you see, Seth, this isreally silk, the queer kind they always make balloons out of. And thatought to tell us we're on the right track. So you see it was animportant pick-up, and ought to count one point for Jotham."
"Gee whittaker! you don't say?" ejaculated Seth, staring withconsiderable more respect at the foot of dingy yellow stuff which thescoutmaster was holding in his hands. "Well, if that's so, then I passalong the honors to Jotham. But if a piece of the bally old balloon fellright here, Paul, don't that tell us the wreck must a passed over wherewe're standing now?"
"Not the least doubt about that," asserted the confident Paul, "and Iwas just looking up to see if I could make out the course it took.Because it must have struck the top of a tree, to tear this pieceloose."
"How about that one over yonder?" suggested Fritz, pointing as he spoke."Looks to me like the top was broke some, and I just bet you now that'swhere the big gas-bag did strike first, when it started to drop in ahurry."
"Then following the course of the wind, which hasn't changed this lasthour, it would be carried on straight east," Paul continued, logically.
"Sure thing," declared Seth, "and if you look close now, you'll glimpsewhere it struck that smaller bunch of trees just ahead, where we'regoing to land soon. And Paul, hadn't we better be trying our luck somemore now? Guess all the boys must be rested, and if we've just _got_ todo the grand wading act, the sooner we get started the better."
"First let's call out again, and see if we get any answer. It wouldcheer the poor fellow up some, if he happens to be lying there badlyhurt; and if he does answer, we'll get our bearings better. Hit it up,Fritz!"
They always turned to Fritz when they wanted volume of sound. Thatappeared to be his specialty, the one thing in which he certainlyexcelled.
Of course there was little need of any great noise, now that they hadreason to believe the object of their solicitude must be close at hand;but then boys generally have plenty of spare enthusiasm, and when Fritzgave the required signal they let out a roar, as usual.
"There, that was certainly an answering call!" declared Jotham, proudly.
"Sounded like he said just two words--'help--hurry!'" spoke up Babe.
Somehow the rest seemed to be of about the same opinion, and the thoughtgave the scouts a strange thrill. Was the unfortunate aeronaut slowlybleeding to death, lying there amidst the bushes on that tong
ue of land?They had given up their dearly cherished plan in order to rescue him,and had undergone considerable in the line of strenuous work, so as toarrive in time, and now that they were so close to the scene of hisdisaster it would be too bad if they were held back until it was toolate to do him any good.
"Can't we hit it up a little faster, Paul?" begged Andy, who was ratherinclined to be impulsive, because of the warm Southern blood that flowedin his veins.
They had once more started on, and were really making pretty goodprogress; but when one gives way to impatience, it may seem that a fairamount of speed is next door to standing still.
Paul understood the generous impulse that caused the Kentucky boy tospeak in this strain and while he knew that it was dangerous to attemptany swifter pace than they were then making, still, for once, he bowedto the will of the majority, and began to increase his speed.
All went well, for beyond a few minor mishaps they managed to get along.What if one of the scouts did occasionally slip off the wretchedfooting, and splash into the mud; a helping hand was always ready to dothe needful, and the delay could hardly be noticed.
"There's the beginning of the firm ground just ahead!" Paul presentlyremarked, thinking to cheer his comrades with the good news.
"Oh! joy!" breathed Jotham, who often used queer expressions, that is,rather odd to hear from a boy.
Seth was the more natural one of the two when he gave vent to hisdelight by using the one expressive word:
"Bully!"
In a couple of minutes at this rate they would have reached the placewhere the slippery trail merged into the more solid ground.
Perhaps some of the others may not as yet have noticed strange soundswelling up out of the bushes beyond, but Paul certainly did, and he wasgreatly puzzled to account for the same.
That singular growling could not be the wind passing through the upperbranches of the trees, for one thing. It seemed to Paul more like thesnarling of an angry domestic cat, several times magnified.
For the life of him he could not imagine what a cat would be doing herein the heart of the dreaded Black Water Swamps. Surely no hermit couldbe living in such a dismal and inaccessible place; even a crazy manwould never dream of passing over such a terribly slippery ledge inorder to get to and from his lonely habitation.
But if not a cat, what was making that angry snarling?
Paul knew next to nothing about balloons, but he felt pretty sure thateven the escaping of gas could hardly produce such a sound--it mightpass through a rent in the silk with a sharp hiss, but he could plainlycatch something more than that.
And then his foot struck solid ground; with a sigh of relief he drewhimself up, and turned to give a hand to Seth, next in line, if it wasneeded.
So they all came ashore, so to speak, and delighted to feel able tostand in a comfortable position once more.
No time now for stretching or dancing, with that ugly snarling growingconstantly deeper, and more angry in volume. Forward was the word, andPaul somehow felt glad that they gripped those handy staves, tried andtrue, with which every scout in course of time becomes quite adept. Theywould come in good play should there be any necessity for prompt action.
"Follow me, everybody," said Paul, as he started off.
"Count on us to back you up!" Seth declared, from which remark thescoutmaster understood that by now the others must have caught thosesuspicious sounds, and were trying to figure out what they stood for.
It seemed as if with every forward step he took, Paul could catch themmore and more plainly. Nor was the snarling sound alone; now he believedhe caught a rustling of dead leaves, and something that might be likenedto low muttered words, as though the speaker were being hard pressed,and had little breath to spare.
Then, as he pushed through the last fringe of bushes that interferedwith his view, Paul found himself looking upon the cause of all thesequeer noises.