JULY led the boys about fifty feet from the shore along the open boat-road, then turned to the right into the thick growth and skirted the island for several hundred yards before landing again. This was no trifling undertaking. The water in many places rose over their knees, and was thick with drift and moss; the bottom was often boggy, and the dense swamp growth forced them to a tortuous route. Moreover, little light descended from the moon among those crowding trees.
"Ten—ten—double ten!" they faintly heard Billy still shouting as they landed, glad to know that as yet their absence had not caused alarm.
Flight across the "prairie" had been voted down because they could take only two boats and rapid pursuit would be inevitable. The trail leading out from Honey Island attracted them, but the boat trip thither was difficult and impossible to follow by night. So they had chosen the jungle trail leading from the lower end of Deserters' Island which the boys had located on the day they killed the wild-cat. The boats had been hidden and they had waded some distance in order to convey a wrong impression as to their real design and delay pursuit.
Halting to listen a few minutes after they landed, they distinctly heard the names of Ted and July called, and knew that at last they were missed. After a few minutes, as they hurried on their way, another shout reached them; and after a brief silence several sharp short yelps from the dogs were heard.
July leaped forward at the sound, urging the boys to haste. The darkness was bewildering until they emerged from the "hammock" and gained the more open pine woods forming the backbone of the island. Here the moonlight filtered through the scattering tops of the tall pines and they could distinguish prominent objects fifty feet away. Even here, however, rapid headway was difficult owing to the blackjack thickets and crowding clumps of the fan-palmetto preventing a straight course. There was a faint trail leading for some three miles toward the lower end of the island, but there was no time to search for it, and they pushed ahead in the general direction as best they could.
An hour later, descending at last into the dense "hammock" growth joining the swamp and the island's lower end, they halted to listen. All was deathly still, at least in the direction of the slackers' camp; but the quiet of the dark slumbering swamp in their front was suddenly broken by the dismal hoot of an owl.
Ted urged that they search for the jungle trail he and Hubert had located and, having found it, push far into the swamp before break of day; but July's courage now failed him and he objected. He said it was dangerous to push into the swamp at night, as indeed it was; that they might sink into a bog over their heads, might walk blindly into a nest of moccasins, or might be set upon by a panther.
"The great trouble is that you are both right," said Hubert.
"Dem mens won't start down dis-a way till daylight," said July. "Dey won't find out we ain't in de boats till mawnin' an' we kin git a big start on 'em on de swamp trail. Less stay up dere in dem open pines till daybreak."
They paused a few moments, undecided. Suddenly from the dark depths of the swamp in their front a strange cry was borne to their ears, an indescribable cry that made their flesh creep.