Nic made no reply, but he thought a great deal; and no more was said till they had crossed a couple of the great fields and knew by the sounds they heard that they must be close to the long, low band of reedy growth which ran by the river-side.
“You lead now, my lad,” whispered Pete. “Get as nigh as you can to where you think the creek is on the other side.”
“It is so dark,” whispered Nic; “but I think we are right.”
He went to the front, assailed by a horrible doubt now that he had taken the wrong way, and was some distance farther up the river; but, as he bent down to part the low growth, to peer through over the dark water, there was a scuffle and a splash, telling of some reptile taking flight, and he shrank back.
But he hardly heeded it, for he had dimly made out a solitary tree across the river, some eighty or a hundred yards away, which he had marked down for bearings.
“This is the place, Pete,” he whispered. “If you stand here and look across, the creek is a little way up to the right.”
“That is good, my lad; I was beginning to be feared that we should have to wait for daylight, and be missed. Now then, take my gun and the tackle, and while I’m gone you load both on ’em.”
“While you are gone?” whispered Nic excitedly. “You are not going; I know the way, and I’ll fetch the boat.”
“That you don’t, Master Nic,” said the man sturdily. “That there water’s full o’ them great brutes, and one of ’em might pull you down.”
“I know it is; and one of them might pull you down.”