“I should say so,” said Bobby. “It’s fairly warm when the sun’s shining, but I thought I was going to freeze to death last night, sure.”
The boys listened anxiously for a repetition of the wild cry that had so disturbed them, but apparently the cougar was not coming in their direction, for they heard nothing further to indicate his presence. Nevertheless, they kept a good fire going all that night, which prevented the one on watch from seeing two glowing green eyes whose owner prowled restlessly about just beyond range of the firelight, as silent as any shadow but more to be feared than the bellowing alligators, who made the night hideous with their noise.
CHAPTER XXIII
TRACKED BY A PANTHER
But in, the morning there was no sign of this midnight prowler, and with the rising sun the boys gave little thought to the weird sounds of the night before. They were up at the first break of dawn, somewhat sore and stiff from the effects of their hard bed, but still full of “pep” for anything the day might have to offer.
They had decided to follow in a general way the course that had taken them so far, that is, head in the general direction of home, but still keep away from the impassable low ground in the vicinity of the river. Bobby wanted Lee to take the lead, but the latter objected.
“I got us into a pretty bad mess the last time,” he said, “and you got us out again. So now, you’d better lead again.”
“Oh, it was mostly luck on my part,” Bobby replied. “How did I know we were going to hit on this island?”
“Your brand of luck is what we need, then,” said Lee. “Let’s hope it will hold out long enough to get us out of this swamp.”
“Well, I’ll do my best, then,” said Bobby, “but don’t blame me if I land you at the bottom of some nice mudhole.”
“I’ll take a chance on your getting through all right, and it will be more than luck that does it, too,” said Fred.