"Guess I was mistaken that time!" said Lil Artha, without cracking a smile, although no doubt he must have been secretly chuckling at the way the handler of the push-pole had shown alacrity in getting out of range.
So Landy, with a sheepish grin, managed to get on his feet again, and take the rescued pole from Toby's hands. He gave the tall scout a sharp look as though suspecting that it had been a trick intended to play upon his nerves. But then Landy was always a good-natured fellow, and never bore anyone ill-will, no matter what the joke might be of which he became the victim.
Toby could not be persuaded that he had not glimpsed a wildcat in that tree under which they passed. He kept staring back as long as it was possible to catch a view of its leafy branches.
"Well, say what you like," he concluded, "I did see something whisk out of sight up there; yes, and it had starey eyes in the bargain. If it was a 'coon, then all I can say is they breed queer 'coons up in this old Sassafras Swamp country. There now, that's about enough from me."
"The afternoon is nearly half gone, and we haven't scared up our quarry yet," advised Mark later on.
"Plenty of time, for there's another day coming," said Elmer. "We're here to comb the swamp through from end to end but what we'll find nobody knows. Keep listening, too. It might be possible we'd hear a shout that would give us a clue."
"Say now, I hadn't thought of that before," admitted Toby. "If Hen is being treated harsh-like by that unknown who's got hold of him, mebbe he might let out a yawp once in a while. There's no harm done in listening, I reckon, and Landy here could tell if it was him giving tongue."
Now and then some sound did come to their ears, but of an entirely different character from the one they were hoping to catch. A granddaddy bullfrog on some mossy log sent out loud and deep-toned demands for "more rum! more rum!" Then a saucy bluejay started in to scold the fellows in the boats for daring to trespass in its preserves, and how the angry bird did lay it on until they were well beyond reach of its chatter.
Once a far-away grumble floated faintly to their ears, at which there was an immediate comparing of opinions. Some seemed to incline to the belief that it must be distant thunder, and that they were bound to soon be caught in a storm, which had been creeping unnoticed up on them, the dense foliage by which they were surrounded preventing them from learning the fact sooner.
"If you asked me what it was," said Elmer, when he found that the others were not able to agree, "I'd be inclined to say we're not more than half a mile away from one side of the swamp, and that there's a farm lying yonder on which they keep a bull. I imagine it was his lowing we heard just then."