"We are going to starve to death in this swamp," moaned Hubert.
"Not a bit of it," said Ted with forced cheerfulness, cutting off abruptly his own complaining train of thought. "Now, Hu, you are not really giving up, I know; you only think you are," he continued, leaning affectionately against his cousin. "Brace up like the man you really are. Just think how much better off we are than some people. Think of our soldiers in the trenches at night in bad weather. In some ways we are as uncomfortable, but think how much safer we are. There are no Germans to sneak poison-gas over on us in the dark."
"There are no Germans, but there are moccasins," said Hubert dolefully.
"I'll just bet that was the only one on this island," Ted declared stoutly, although he feared there were at least a dozen. "Don't think about them. Think of what we are going to do tomorrow, and we are going to get out of this swamp—or pretty nearly. Things come out all right after a while; I never saw it fail. You know, Hu, I like to think of the grand pluck of old Socrates—I've heard Uncle Walter quote him—when he said: 'No evil can befall a good man, whether he be alive or dead.' That means, if we are truthful and manly, and harm nobody, and do our best, we're all right, or going to be all right, whatever happens. And you and I are goin' to be all right soon, too. You'll see."
Whether it was the result of this comforting philosophy or sheer physical exhaustion, Hubert became quiet and soon fell asleep. But it was long before poor Ted, sitting alone in the dark, could do for himself what he had so manfully done for his cousin. If a discerning eye had looked down through the night, helplessness, even despair, would have been seen in his face. And then, all at once, somehow help came to Ted, too; his courage returned, and with it a certain restfulness of body which presently brought sleep.
XIX
AS the first gray light of morning struggled through the mist still enveloping the marsh, Ted started up and looked about him. His attention was at once attracted to a white sand-hill crane fully five feet in height standing on a point of the little island about fifty yards distant.
Seizing his long stick, the boy crept toward the fowl behind the screen offered by the cassina bushes. He hoped to knock it down, thinking that even the fishy flesh of a crane would be found palatable by two half-starved boys. But the wary bird spread wide its wings and flew away in the mist long before Ted was near enough to use his weapon. He smiled faintly as he faced his failure, calling to mind the story told him when a very little boy that he could catch any bird in existence if he could get near enough to put salt on its tail. He remembered at least one unsuccessful attempt to catch a mocking-bird by such means, before he appreciated the joke, and reflected that it would be about as easy to salt a crane's tail as to creep up near enough to knock it down with a stick.
Both Ted and Hubert found themselves suffering with sore throat and their limbs were numb and cold; but they felt more or less rested and their hunger was less sharp than on the night before. On the whole, they felt better, and were eager to go forward in the hope of improving their condition. Ted said that if they could see the island they had left the day before, he would favor going straight back there; but that if they attempted to return in the fog, there were a thousand chances to one that they would go astray, and he therefore thought that they had better take the risk of pushing forward. Hubert agreed, preferring to leave the decision to his more experienced cousin in any case.