“Where’s Paul?” cried he, suddenly missing the boy.
“Wh-hy-I don’t know. I was so busy watching Billy I didn’t see him leave us,” replied Dudley, frightened and running after Fred as fast as he could go.
Billy reached the ground and started to tear after the other boys when he heard the familiar whistle generally given as a signal from Uncle Bill when he was in search of any one.
Billy signalled in return and soon Uncle Bill came from the fir-woods and crossed the small clearing that lay between the firs and the spruce where the hawk’s nest was located.
“Hurry—come with me and help!” cried Billy, catching hold of his uncle’s hand before anything could be said.
On the way he breathlessly explained what he had seen from the tree-top, and where Fred and Dudley had gone.
“Must be a quicksand. If all you boys are O. K. who can it be? I thought no one was on the island besides ourselves?” cried Uncle Bill.
“I saw a sort of a hut near there when I was up in the tree!” added Billy.
“Perhaps it is some one from the hut; but then they ought to know of the danger I should think! Anyway we ought to have a rope to throw,” said Uncle Bill now thoroughly anxious, dragging his nephew along to keep up with his running strides.
“I’ll run over to the camp and see if I can find a line or rope,” said Billy, as they reached the edge of the grove near the bluff.