This was no easy question to answer. As if by magic darkness had settled all around them, shutting out the sight of objects less than a hundred yards away. To go forward was all but impossible, and whether or not they could get back to where they had come from was a serious problem.
"If we can't get back we'll have to camp right here," said Dick.
But they did not want to stay in such a thicket and so they pushed on a little further, until they reached a slight rise of ground. Then Dick, who was in advance as before, uttered a cry of surprise:
"A trail! I wonder where it leads to?"
He was right, a well defined trail or footpath lay before them, running between the brushwood and palms and around the rocks. It did not look as if it had been used lately, but it was tolerably clear of any growth.
This was something the Rover boys had not counted on, for Bahama Bill had never spoken of any trail in his descriptions of the isle. They gazed at the path with curiosity. Tom was the first to speak.
"Shall we follow it?" he asked.
"Might as well," answered Sam. "It's better than scratching yourself and tearing your clothing in those thorn bushes."
The boys took to the trail and passed along for a distance of quarter of a mile or more. It wound in and out around the rocks and trees and had evidently been made by some natives bringing out wild fruits and the like from the forest.
"It doesn't seem to be leading us to anywhere," was Dick's comment. "I don't know whether to go on or not."