"That's sound logic, I take it, Larry. How about it, Tony?" asked Phil, turning to the swamp boy, who sat there listening to what was being said, but without saying a word.
"'Bout mile straight across; p'raps two mile round by river," he replied.
"Just about what I thought," Phil went on. "You don't suppose, do you, Tony, they could have heard us when you and Larry were having your jig-time with the old mossback 'gator?"
"Might hear me shout, but b'lieve it other boys," was the reply which Tony made.
"I'm glad of that," Phil remarked, though he did not explain just why.
"And the more I think about it," Larry spoke up, "the greater I feel that I had a mighty narrow escape. Just you catch me dropping overboard again while we're around this region! Why, Phil, would you believe it, while I was fishing above, didn't I see as many as five of the nasty wigglers go swimming past. Ugh! they give me a cold creep."
"Now what do you mean by wigglers?" demanded his companion.
"Snakes, ugly brown and yellow fellers, with a nasty head, and a wicked look about 'em that I don't like a bit," Larry answered, readily, and shuddering as he spoke.
"Oh! you mean those everlasting water moccasins, do you?" Phil laughed. "Well, they are ugly customers, I admit. And I've heard that their bite is mighty nearly as bad as the rattlesnake's, down here. How about that, Tony?"
"Not so bad, oh, no!" the swamp boy quickly replied. "Sometimes leave sore, not soon heal up. But weuns have medicine tuh take when cotton-mouth or moccasin hit in leg with fangs. We splash when we go through water in swamp, and skeer away. No bother much 'bout moccasin. But rattler more trouble. Two year I get bit, and McGee have much hard time keepin' his Tony."