“We’ve got to be mighty careful and watch our step, or one of us will be tumbling in,” said Herb. “And while I’m fond enough of bathing as a rule, I want to go in of my own accord.”
“I guess we’ll have to depend on our ears instead of our eyes to warn us when we’re getting close,” replied Joe. “And from what I think I hear, our ears will be quite sufficient. Listen!”
The boys stood still for a moment, and then they all heard a sibilant, shrill, hissing sound that was entirely distinct from the beating of the surf along the shore.
“That’s something new,” remarked Bob. “We didn’t hear that when we came from the colony a little while ago.”
“No,” replied Joe. “But in the meantime the ocean has been getting in its work and has forced its way into the inlet. From the sound, the water’s rushing through there like a mill race. And it’s all the fiercer because the channel is so narrow. I guess Herb was right when he said we’d have to watch our step.”
“Let’s all keep close together until we’ve got on the other side,” suggested Bob. “It seems to me that I can see the outline of the bridge just a little way ahead.”
By advancing slowly, step at a time, they found their way to the entrance to the bridge and Bob heaved a sigh of relief as his hand rested on the railing.
“Here we are all right,” he said. “Now follow close in Indian file.”
“The inlet has surely gone on a rampage,” Joe remarked. “Just hear the way the water goes tearing along. And from the sound it isn’t so far below the level of the bridge. Don’t let’s dawdle, fellows. I for one will feel a mighty sight better when we get on the other side.”
The others felt the same way, and all quickened their steps. Nor was their apprehension allayed by the way the bridge shook and quivered beneath their feet.