“I should like to see one,” said Rob.
“Wait a bit, my lad, and you shall,” said Shaddy.—“Humph! don’t like this place at all,” he growled. “Look there!” he continued, pointing at where three big trees lay close together, with their branches worn sharp by the action of the water. “If there ain’t ’gators under all them sharp snags my name ain’t Shadrach Naylor! Water’s quite still, too, there. I hope there ain’t anything worse.”
“Do you think we had better go on?” said Brazier.
“Nay, we’ll risk it, sir. Let’s wait till the fire burns up big and strong. We’ll have a roarer to-night, and that’ll scare away most of the trash. Worst of it is, I’m ’fraid it ’tracts the ’gators and fish.”
Chapter Eleven.
An Eventful Night.
“I do like a good fire, Joe,” said Rob, as he gazed at the ruddy flames rushing up.
“Why, you’re not cold?”