There was a boat in the bayou, and Don and Bert Gordon were in it. They were so close at hand, too, that flight was impossible.
“I don't think there's much difference between riding on horseback and rowing in a boat, as far as the work is concerned,” said the same voice. “I've done about all I can do to-day. There don't seem to be any ducks in the bayou; so we'll stop here and take a breathing spell before we go back.”
“Is thar any place in the wide world a feller could crawl into without bein' pestered by them two oneasy chaps?” whispered Dan, jumping up from his block of wood and looking all around, as if he were seeking a way of escape.
“Not a word out of you,” replied Godfrey, shaking his fist at his son.
Following Godfrey's example, Dan threw himself behind one of the piles of cane, and the two held their breath and listened.
[CHAPTER VII.
WHAT HAPPENED THERE.]
“You're not going to get out, are you, Don?” asked Bert, and as he was not more than four or five rods away, every word he uttered was distinctly heard by the two listeners in the cane.
“I want to stretch my legs a little,” was Don's reply. “Come on, and let's explore the island. You know it used to be a famous bear's den, don't you?”
“I should think I ought to know it, having heard father tell the story of the animal's capture a dozen times or more. He must have been a monster: he was so large and heavy that it was all a span of mules could do to drag him from the shore of the lake, where he was taken out of the boat, up to the house.”
“And didn't he make things lively before he was killed, though?” said Don. “He destroyed nine dogs and wounded two men. I'd like to take part in a hunt like that.”