“Yes,” said Fred, “that’s good advice. But how are we going to do it?”
“By using this,” replied Bobby, showing him a small hatchet that he had fastened to his belt. “I found this in one corner of the cabin this morning and I brought it along. We’ll chip off pieces of bark from the trees as we go along and that will help us to find our way back.”
He illustrated this by slashing a bit of bark off a tree that they happened to be passing.
“That’s bully,” said Lee, greatly relieved. “I was just worrying about the chance of not being able to find our way back again.”
They went on, looking carefully for some sign of a trail, by following which they might again reach the plantation and friends.
Soon they found themselves on marshier ground than that near the cabin, and they turned in another direction to find better footing.
The ground was covered with rotting leaves and bits of broken branches. Fred was picking his way, and was just about to step on what seemed to be an unusually thick stick, about three feet long, when there was a warning shout from Lee who was several feet in the rear.
“Look out, Fred!” he yelled. “It’s a snake, a moccasin!”
The warning came too late. Fred’s foot had already touched one end of the seeming stick. Like lightning, an ugly head upreared at the other end and struck savagely at the intruder.
“Run!” shouted Lee. “Run for your life!”