“You must stand it! Don’t stop, for your life!” cried Bruce.
The others said nothing. To speak would be but to waste their precious breath, which they were losing only too rapidly.
On and on. Still the soft mud lay beneath them, and an awful fear came to some of them that it was getting softer.
The fear was soon realized.
Softer and softer it grew, and deeper sank their feet. Had this place only been found at an earlier period, they could have returned, or they would have had strength to struggle on; but now it came in the hour of their extremest exhaustion. It was a hollow in the mud, somewhat lower than the surrounding surface.
“We can’t go through this,” said Bruce; and he pointed to the centre of the hollow, which looked fearfully soft and liquid. “Let’s go around it;” and turning rapidly, he started off toward the right. The boys said nothing. They floundered deep in the mud,-they panted, they gasped, they moaned in the despairing efforts which they made.
“I’ll lie down,” gasped Phil. “I—won’t—sink—“.
“On, on! Never! We’ll all have to die if you stop.”
These words came from Bart, who, exhausted as he was, caught Phil’s arm, and dragged him on.
At that moment Tom fell.