"There goes your lame rabbit now, Bobolink; and say, look at the way she jumps over the ground," remarked Phil, chuckling.
"Not so loud, boys," cautioned the scout master. "These things are all mighty interesting; but we mustn't forget what we're here for nor yet the fact that we've got a pretty good hunch there are some men close by who would be just as mad as hops if they knew we meant to stalk their camp and spy on them. If you have to say anything, whisper it softly, remember."
At that they all fell silent. It was true that they had forgotten for the moment that they were doing scouting work; and under such conditions talking was not allowed, especially above the lowest tone.
All of them noticed that it was getting very close now, for they had to use the red bandanna handkerchiefs they carried, and quite frequently at that, to wipe away the perspiration that oozed from their foreheads.
"Lucky we left our coats in camp; isn't it?" remarked Phil.
"Looks that way now, but if that rain does strike us, we may wish we had 'em on," Tom Betts replied; showing that he at least had not been able to put out of his head the possibility of a storm.
"Seems to me we must be getting somewhere," Phil observed.
"It can't be very much further," Paul answered, feeling that the remark was addressed to him as the pilot of the expedition."
"I should say not," came from Bluff, as chipper as a bird's song, and without the least sign of halt or break; "if we go on much more, we'll walk off the end of the island."
Bobolink patted him on the back, as if to encourage him in well doing.