“I see. Well, what do we do about it? You think the guard will stay there all day?”
“Can’t tell. Much likely they will stay long time.”
“I suppose so,” Biff said. He thought a minute. “It might be that there’s been a lot of slipping across the border here lately, and these guards have been assigned to stop it.”
“I think you right, Biff.”
Neither spoke for several minutes. Both were trying to figure a way out of the spot they found themselves in.
“How about this, Chuba? Couldn’t we either go up the river a couple hundred yards or more, or down the river and slip across?”
Chuba shook his head. “No, Biff. River narrow, run very quick on both sides of the clearing. Too deep. Jungle grow real thick and fierce right to water’s edge. Can’t get through.”
“Well, we’ve just got to get across somehow. We’re losing time.” As Biff spoke, another thought was building in his head.
“Now let me ask you this, Chuba. See if you think this plan might work. Supposing I cut off the trail about a hundred feet from the clearing. I’ll make my way through the underbrush to a spot say seventy-five feet away from the trail. You go hide behind that tree where we first spotted the guard. You follow me?”
“Okay so far.”