Out from under the clinging canvas they struggled into the darkness of the storm, for the wind had extinguished their lanterns. They could not see which way to go to get to their boat, where they knew they would be sheltered, for they had put up the awning before camping out.
Suddenly Bob uttered a cry.
“Something has cut me!”
“Me too!” cried Jerry. “It feels as if a lot of knives were sawing my hands and face.”
“It’s the giant saw-grass!” called the professor. “It grows in this region. The wind is whipping the long blades into our faces. Stoop down, boys, or you’ll be badly cut!”
They tried to do this, but it seemed as if the saw-grass was all over. In the darkness they had plunged into a patch of the dreaded stuff. The serrated edges of the rush-like growth scarified their skin like knives, and the boys and the professor were soon bleeding from several places.
[CHAPTER XV]
THE BIG SNAKE
Dangerous indeed was the plight of the travelers. In the darkness, and with the storm at its height, they were entangled in the patch of saw-grass, and could not discover which way to escape from it. The wind lashed the keen edges across their hands and faces again and again.