“I mean that we shall not, as I began to fear, have to swim any creeks or wade runnels to gain it.”
It was as Frank had assumed. A few minutes more tramping through the sticky black ooze brought them to a point where the trail widened, and they could see beyond the tops of the cabbage palms that fringed the edge of the island.
“We are here at last,” whispered Frank, “now we shall have to go very carefully till we find out the lay of the land. There’s no use walking into a trap for the lack of a little caution.”
Slowly the boys crept on down the short section of trail now remaining. Frank carefully noted the comparatively dry ground—where the marks of the deers’ hoofs still showed—that there were no human tracks visible and this was in itself a good sign as it showed that the trail was a little used one.
They emerged at length into a thickly-grown cabbage palm patch, through which, to their great delight, flowed a tiny stream, from one of the clear springs that abound on the islands of the Everglades. Lying flat on their faces the boys fairly sucked up the cool, clear water and let it trickle gratefully down their parched throats.
Greatly refreshed by their draught, they looked about them. The little grove in which they stood was surrounded by dense undergrowth. At first there seemed to be no path through the tangle, but after a lengthy search the boys discovered a narrow trail, evidently a continuation of the one they had just left. It led, as Frank’s compass showed, in the general direction of the settlement.
“We’ve come so far we’ve got to go ahead now,” were Frank’s words, as the two young adventurers plunged into the dense brush down the narrow trail.
CHAPTER XXII.
BEN STUBBS DISAPPEARS.
Left behind at Camp Walrus, Billy Barnes, Lathrop, and Ben Stubbs watched the Golden Eagle II until she became a bird-like speck against the intense blue of the Florida sky.
“Good luck to them,” cried Billy, a wish that was echoed by all the “stay-at-homes,” as Lathrop had dubbed them.