“Gee!” ejaculated Earle, as the party came to a halt by the margin of the morass-like expanse, “this promises to be a corker, Dick. Eh, what? Guess we’ll have to go into camp for a bit, and explore. I don’t at all like the notion of attempting to force our way across that swamp, if there is a method of working round it—as of course there is if we are prepared to travel far enough. This reminds me of Florida, where I once spent a month shooting ’gators—and other things. I guess there’ll be all the ’gators we want in there, to say nothing of snakes, mosquitos, scorpions, centipedes, and other ‘varmint.’ No; I guess we’ll go round, if we can; and if we can’t, we must make dugouts, and effect the crossing in them. We’ll never be able to do it any other way.”
It was indeed a formidable-looking barrier, this vast expanse of swamp, that stretched itself, mile after mile, right athwart the party’s course, and its aspect was as dreary and depressing as one could well imagine. All along its margin the soil was soft, boggy and treacherous, to such an extent, indeed, that while making a preliminary investigation of the ground before definitely deciding upon a location for the camp, Dick suddenly sank in to above his knees, and only succeeded in extricating himself with the utmost difficulty, assisted though he was by Earle and some half a dozen Indians, who formed themselves into a human chain and dragged him out by main force.
The entire expanse of swamp appeared to be level, with the exception of a few very trifling elevations here and there, and seemed to consist of boggy soil covered with a rank growth of coarse grass, reeds, and stunted bush, sparsely dotted here and there with a few gnarled and unwholesome-looking trees, the whole intersected by a labyrinth of canals filled with stagnant water, which wound hither and thither in a most purposeless and bewildering fashion. That insect life abounded there was manifest at the most cursory glance, for great clouds of midges or flies could be seen hovering in the air in every direction, while Earle’s surmise as to the presence of alligators was abundantly confirmed by the frequent roaring of the creatures. The forest seemed to grow close up to the margin of the swamp everywhere, a mere narrow strip of open ground some twenty to thirty yards wide, dividing the two.
A fairly satisfactory site for the camp having at length been found, Earle and Dick, armed with rifle and automatic, and each accompanied by an Indian carrying a machete, set off in opposite directions to explore the margin of the swamp, in the hope of discovering a spot from which a promising start to cross might be made; while King Cole, quite unable to decide which of his masters he would accompany, finally laid down with his head between his paws and whined pitifully, refusing to be comforted by anybody.
Warned by his recent mishap, Dick was careful to give the treacherous margin of the swamp a wide berth. The route he was pursuing led about due south; and for nearly an hour he pursued his way at a good brisk pace, uneventfully and without finding anything like that of which he was in search. Eventually, however, he arrived at a point where the edge of the forest abruptly receded toward the east, leaving a wide expanse of bare soil, beyond which, at a distance of a short quarter of a mile, the swamp again appeared, stretching away limitlessly toward the south and east. Apparently, the only thing to do was to follow the northerly margin of solid ground, which seemed to trend away in a westerly direction, the direction namely in which Earle wished to travel, and this Dick accordingly did. He followed this course for about half an hour, finding the tongue of firm ground which he was traversing vary in width, from time to time, from several yards to, in places, merely enough for a man conveniently to walk upon, while it twisted hither and thither in the most erratic fashion, although on the whole it continued to push its way steadily westward toward the heart of the swamp. Then, glancing at the declining sun, he decided that he must retrace his steps if he desired to get back to camp before dark.
Thus far, the afternoon’s journey had been wholly uneventful, excepting for the persistent attacks of the myriads of mosquitoes and flies which swarmed in great clouds about the two adventurers to such an extent that there were times when they were compelled to halt and beat the pests off their bodies. But now they had something else than flies and mosquitoes to think about, for they had scarcely progressed a quarter of a mile on their return when, as they approached a spot where the firm soil narrowed to a mere causeway, scarcely two feet in width, Dick, who was leading, suddenly became aware of a strange and formidable-looking creature squatting at the far extremity of the causeway, apparently awaiting their approach.
As his eyes fell upon it Cavendish came to a halt so suddenly that the Indian in his rear cannoned into him, nearly knocking him into the black water alongside.
“Steady, Moquit!” exclaimed Dick, addressing his follower in the Indian tongue, in which he was rapidly acquiring a considerable degree of proficiency. “Look ahead, Moquit. What is that thing? Have you ever seen anything like it before?”
“Never, master,” answered Moquit, staring with bulging eyes at the apparition, which in its turn was staring back at them. “I like it not. Toqui preserve us!”—(Toqui was the name of Moquit’s most revered god)—“it looks like a slayer of men. Had not master better destroy it with his fire tube, lest it cross over and devour us?”
“I do not think we need greatly fear that,” answered Dick, holding his rifle in readiness nevertheless. “The causeway is too narrow for the brute to cross. What, in the name of Fortune, can the beast be?” he concluded in his own tongue.