"Well, we have; and, unless I am very much mistaken, you will find the bridge right before you. Shall we try to cross it now? It will be a slippery job."
The "bridge" that Frank referred to was simply a large tree that the boys had felled across the creek, and stripped of its branches. It could easily be crossed in the day-time, but in a dark, stormy night it was a difficult task to undertake. The boys could scarcely see their hands before them; and Frank had accomplished something worth boasting of in being able to conduct his cousin directly to the bridge.
"It will require the skill of a rope-dancer to cross that bridge now," said Archie; "and, if we should happen to slip off into the water, we would be in a nice fix."
"Besides," said Frank, "if we did succeed in crossing, we could not go far in the dark, on account of the swamp; so, I think, we had better wait."
The boys stood under the tree, talking in low tones, when Frank suddenly exclaimed,
"We're all right. The geese are in the lake. Do you hear that?"
Archie listened, and heard a splashing in the water, mingled with the hoarse notes of the gander.
"I wish it was daylight," said he, impatiently.
"Don't be in a hurry," said Frank; "there's time enough."
"I'm afraid they will start off as soon as it gets light."