“Let’s go, then,” urged Bobby; and the three friends resumed their perilous journey.
They had by this time become so expert in choosing the best spots to step that they found their progress less arduous than they had expected. But now a new difficulty arose, for the sun became clouded over, and this left them at a loss as to direction, this having been their only guide so far.
Bobby grew more and more anxious as the haziness continued to increase, and at last called a halt on a bit of high ground that was a little harder than the surrounding bog.
“Looks as though we’re rather up against it now, fellows,” he said. “If we can’t see the sun, we won’t know what direction we’re going in, and chances are we’ll just be getting in deeper all the time instead of getting out.”
“But we can’t stay here,” objected Lee. “We’ve just got to keep going, and hope we’ll come out somewhere, anyway. We know we’re headed about right now, so why not try to keep on that way?”
Bobby shook his head doubtfully, but as there seemed to be no alternative, except to return to their island, he started on again. Indeed, he felt far from certain that he could find the island again, or he might have proposed going back to it.
Fortunately, the ground seemed to be getting somewhat firmer, but as they progressed the trees and undergrowth became so dense that they found increasing difficulty in making progress. Several times Bobby stopped and peered about uneasily among the trees, apparently in search of something which he could not locate.
“What’s the matter, Bobby?” asked Fred, at last, made uneasy by his friend’s uneasiness. “What are you looking for, anyway?”
“I may be wrong,” said Bobby, stopping again, “but I can’t help feeling as though we were being followed and watched by something. I thought I saw something in the underbrush just a little while ago, but it was gone so quickly that I couldn’t be sure.”
“What did it look like?” queried Lee, quickly.