Pawnee Brown was now fully alive to the grave peril of his situation.
He tried by all the strength at his command to pull himself to the firm ground from which he had started.
He could not budge a foot. True, he took one step, but it was only to sink in deeper than ever.
Several minutes of great anxiety passed. He had sunk very nearly up to his armpits.
Quarter of an hour more and he would be up to his head, and then——? Brave as he was, the great scout did not dare to think further. The idea of a death in the treacherous quicksand was truly horrible.
His friends would wonder what had become of him, but it was not likely that they would ever find his body.
And even faithful Bonnie Bird would be dumb, so far as telling the particulars of her master's disappearance was concerned.
The mare now stood upon the edge of the quicksands, fifteen feet off, whining anxiously. She knew as well as though she had been a human being that something was wrong.
Suddenly an inspiration came to Pawnee Brown.
"How foolish! Why didn't I think of that before?" he muttered.