The trail they had chosen led to the beach where the mysterious male chorus had disappeared. Arrived at the beach where the waves were now racing, they stood for a time in silence. When a piece of driftwood—the broken side of a native dugout—came floating in, Mildred turned away with a shudder, her thoughts on Johnny.
Having wandered into the jungle a short distance she stopped suddenly to stare at the trunk of a tree. There, standing out against the smooth gray bark, was a small, green arrow!
“Doris!” she called. “Come here!”
“Green arrow!” Doris exclaimed, reaching Mildred’s side. “What do you suppose it means?” she whispered.
“It’s a trail marker!” said Mildred. “There should be others. Come on!”
There were others! Some were quite far up on the trees, while others were low. They continued the search for ten minutes, steadily finding others.
Doris was frightened and did not wish to go on. At every turn of the trail she expected to come upon a freshly made clearing, a cluster of tents and a whole army of strange warriors.
But Mildred thought of but one thing.... Perhaps they were on the road to a real discovery.
As they went deeper and deeper into the jungle, the green arrows became scarcer, and harder to find. The trail grew steeper and narrower. Thorny bushes tore at them, and once a great snake crossed their path. Unused to all this, Doris was distinctly uneasy. But Mildred’s face fairly shone.
However, when they came to a place where the trail split into three narrower ones and, search as they might, they could not find a single arrow, Mildred, too, was ready to give up.