“’Cause I can’t, lad,” replied the man addressed. “It warn’t my watch, and I telled you I was too busy looking out for squalls. I dunno which way we ought to go, messmate. Don’t you, Mr Murray, sir?”
“No, my lad; I’ve lost our bearings for a bit, but you two try off to right and left while I go straight on, and the first that comes upon the river holloa gently. Not loud, because it may bring the enemy down upon us. Now then, off with you, and when you shout, stand fast so that we may come and join you.”
“Stand fast it is, sir,” said Tom May, and without further hesitation the three separated and began to thread the dense cane brake, each fully expecting to come upon the windings of the overshadowed river at once. But somehow every step seemed to lead the seekers into greater difficulties. It was plain enough that the river must be near, for their steps were in and out among the dense patches of cane and over soft spongy soil into which their feet sank slightly, the earth being springy and elastic; but though Murray expected to see the dense foliage open out and the brake look lighter from the presence of the river, he was disappointed again and again, and to all intents and purposes the stream had ceased to exist.
For some minutes, as Murray strode on, the steps of his companions were audible in two directions, and making up his mind to proceed in that being taken by May, he struck off so as to cross the man’s track.
This seemed practicable enough for a while, and he went on till the brake began to grow more dense and he had to force his way through the thicket. Then to his disgust he found himself entangled in a little wilderness of thorny palms, out of which he had a hard struggle to free himself, and he stood at last, panting and exhausted, rubbing the bleeding spots beneath the rents in his garments which asserted themselves plainly.
Murray rubbed himself and listened, and then listened and rubbed, but he could not hear a sound.
“Let me see,” he thought. “Oh, how vexatious, just when we ought to be close to the boat and sending her down stream! Must be this way where I heard Tom May—if it was Tom May. Well, it doesn’t matter if it was Titely. Let’s get to either of them, and then we’ll hail the other.”
The lad hesitated for a few minutes longer, listening hard the while, and then more in passion than in despair he started off in a bee line through the thick canes, hopefully now, for the earth felt softer than before.
“Must be right here; and as soon as I reach the river I have only to see which way the stream runs and follow it down to where the boat lies. Oh, look sharp, old fellow,” he muttered, “for this is horrible.”
He increased his pace, with the earth certainly growing softer, and then he pulled up short, turned and darted back, for as he stepped forward the soft spongy earth seemed suddenly to have grown horny and hard and to heave up beneath his feet, convincing him that he had stepped upon one of the horrible alligators of the Western swamps. There was a violent splashing, the reptile struck to right and left, mowing down the canes, and the midshipman, suffering from a sensation of horror and creepiness, stopped at last, panting.