This conjecture was natural enough, and but for other circumstances might have satisfied me. It did not, and I continued to seek for some other explanation. If I could only get sight of the speakers, this might be obtained. But I could not without danger of exposing myself to their view. I might hear what they were saying by making a nearer approach, but this would be equally perilous.
All at once it occurred to me that I might accomplish my object by climbing up into the cypress. The sounds would be carried upward, and in the tree-top I might be able to understand the talk going on in the lagoon. I saw that the ascent would be easy. One of the buttresses offered a slanting ridge, not much more difficult to scale than the rounds of a ladder; and by this I clambered up into the tree.
CHAPTER XIX.
A SINGULAR PROCEEDING.
Once among the branches, I felt myself safe from being seen. The streamers of Spanish moss formed a festoonery around me thick enough to have concealed an elephant. By keeping quiet there would be no danger of my being detected, and I kept as still as a man may be expected to who believes his life depends upon so slight a thing as the swishing of a leaf, or the snapping of a twig.
I had not been twenty minutes on my perch before becoming convinced that my life hung upon just such a thread.
This conviction came not from any thing I heard; for still, as below, I could only make out the murmur of the men's voices; but I was now able to get sight of themselves.
One of the largest limbs of the cypress extended toward the lagoon, beyond which there was an open list communicating with that over the water. By creeping along this branch I believed I should have a view, not only of the bayou, but of the boat.
With only one hand to help me, it seemed a difficult task, but under the stimulus of something more than curiosity I attempted it. I succeeded.