PROMPTNESS was indeed necessary, for it was fast growing dark. After a hurried search Ted selected a little open spot which was comparatively dry and covered with long grass. Within two or three feet stood a large black-gum tree, which, Ted reflected, could be climbed easily in an emergency; and close at hand was abundance of hemleaf and huckleberry bushes. The tops of these could be broken and piled where the boys chose to sleep, and the couch thus prepared, though not likely to suggest down, would at least protect them from the damp ground.

Ted next began to collect fuel, which he should have done at first. The two boys had scarcely begun this task when it became so dark that no object more than three feet distant could be distinctly seen. Dry wood appeared to be very scarce, and even when they had finally started a small fire the prospect of keeping it burning throughout the night was more than doubtful. However, it gave them light whereby to break brush and gather Spanish moss for their bed, and it enabled Ted to dry his wet trousers.

To attempt to butcher and broil the duck under present circumstances seemed too great an undertaking and so for supper they had only the sweet and tender roots of young palmetto shoots; after partaking of which unsatisfactory sustenance they found a degree of comfort in vigorously chewing sweetgum scraped from a neighboring tree. And when they lay down to sleep, covering themselves with moss, they were thankful to be warm and dry, even if still hungry.

"I think I understand now," said Ted, before they lay down by the dying fire. "I think we are in the Okefinokee. We came in without knowing it."

"And we'll never get out," groaned Hubert.

"Oh, yes we will. I've noticed that things come out all right after a while if you keep trying," said Ted philosophically. "But before we do get out we may have to tramp around a long time, and, maybe we'll find the slackers' camp. I wish we could. I'd like to talk to them and see if I couldn't persuade them——"

"They'd only laugh at you," interrupted Hubert, "and they might get mad and cuff you around. Better let them alone."

"Sometimes I think they might," said Ted, "but when I want to do anything very much and feel afraid of getting hurt I say to myself, 'Never mind; they can't do any more to you than to kill you, and there's another world to come after this,' and I go ahead. Sometimes I go ahead when I'm awfully afraid."

"You can put up a big bluff, then, for you never seem afraid," said Hubert. "Maybe they'll start to hunt for us by morning," he added hopefully, abruptly changing the subject.

"Not if Aunt Clarissa thinks we've gone to Cousin Jim's in town, and it might be two weeks before she found out we weren't there," said Ted, regretting his speech the moment it was uttered.

"Oh, I forgot," groaned Hubert, with starting tears. "We'll never get out of this swamp."

"We'll soon find our way," insisted Ted. "Anyhow, it does no good to fret. It does harm. I've found that it pays to keep hoping. Maybe I'd be different if I'd had a mother to pet me up and make me soft. It's great to have a sweet mother, but if you don't have one you learn a lot of things for yourself."

Hubert made no response and Ted fell silent. Presently the heavy breathing of the younger boy showed that he was asleep, but Ted lay awake a long while. The fire was now practically out and the darkness was intense, but it was a clear night and an occasional star could be seen through the overhanging foliage. After silently reciting the prayer he had been taught to repeat at night, Ted lay close to Hubert, trying to still anxious thought and sleep, but at every sound made in the brush by some little restless forest dweller, bird or beast, at every freshening of the night breeze in the leaves, he would start up and listen, his active imagination peopling the gloom about them with nameless and sometimes fearful shapes.

Anything definite and distinctly recognizable, permitting no vague and disturbing conjecture, was welcome, and so Ted's strained attention somewhat relaxed when an owl alighted in the black-gum, lifted its eerie voice, and with insistent repetition seemed to demand—"Who-who-who-all?"

Finally the boy fell into deep slumber. Some hours later he was awakened by feeling Hubert move and hearing his voice close to his ear:

"Ted, Ted, wake up! I heard something."

Ted was wide awake in a moment. Listening intently he heard a stealthy footfall, then another and another, suggesting that an animal of some size was guardedly encircling the camp. The sounds appeared to come from points little more than thirty feet away.

"Let's climb that tree!" proposed Hubert excitedly. "It may be a panther and it may jump on us."

A twig snapped under the foot of the prowling animal and panic seized both boys. Grasping his gun, Ted leaped to his feet and bounded toward the tree, which Hubert was already climbing. After passing up his gun, Ted followed nimbly. Lodged in the branches of the black-gum some twenty-five feet from the ground, the boys listened intently, but now all was still. The marauder appeared to have been frightened in turn, and had either retreated or had squatted and was remaining quiet.

Ted began to repent of their hasty action, suggesting in a whisper that it would have been better if they had stayed where they were and built up the fire. "You remember what Uncle Walter said about fighting 'em with fire," he reminded Hubert, adding, with a view to comfort the younger boy: "Maybe it was nothing but an old cow anyhow."

But Hubert would not consent to descend from the tree, and so Ted made himself as comfortable as possible among the spreading branches near the tree's main stem.

Waiting thus, wide awake and watchful, he soon noted with great relief that day was breaking. The welcome light that slowly descended and gradually dissipated the darkness of the swamp brought good cheer. With a laugh on his lips Ted climbed down from their perch and was reluctantly followed by Hubert.

"We must go back on our tracks to the lake," proposed Ted, "go all around it carefully, make sure of the right path, and start off toward home. If we have good luck, we may get there by dinner time."

Hubert now espied the hatchet near the bed of leafy boughs and picked it up. They then observed that the ground was covered with feathers, with here and there a few fragments of small bones, and recollected the duck which Ted had shot. It was plain that the animal that had visited them during the night had enjoyed a feast at their expense.

"You see, that was all it was after," laughed Ted.

The boys started off cheerfully on the backward trail. For the first half mile it led over soft spongy earth, wherein their tracks were easily seen; but by and by they reached a tract of many acres dotted with clumps of palmettos, where the ground was firm and thickly covered with wiregrass. Here the trail was soon lost. After some time spent in a vain attempt to find it, they pushed forward in what appeared to be the right general direction only to lose all sense of even this in consequence of the excitement following an exciting event.

As Ted expressed it afterward, they "ran right up on a bear." The creature was engaged in pulling up young palmetto shoots and eating the sweet and tender part near the root. After each pull it would rear up on its hind legs and look cautiously over the brush in every direction. So when Ted and Hubert stepped into view the bear saw them on the instant and bolted, crashing loudly through the tangle of underbrush. The two boys took one long look and then fled in the opposite direction, not quite sure that the beast was pursuing them, but uncomfortably certain that their bird-guns would be scant protection.

Their panic over, they came to a halt, Ted laughing nervously and remarking that the bear was "worse scared than we were." As to this Hubert had his doubts, and he was hardly able to force a smile. Looking about him upon totally unfamiliar landscape, he declared, with a catch in his voice, that they were "lost now for sure."

"No, we're not, for there's the lake!" cried Ted, espying a sheet of water some distance ahead of them.

Then they hurried forward hopefully, but only to find that the little sheet of water, though much like it, was not the one wherein the duck had been shot. It was now quite evident that they were lost several miles within the borders of the Okefinokee and ignorant which way to turn. In the full realization of this Hubert had to struggle very hard to keep back his tears. As for Ted, he forgot all about his plan of seeking out the camp of the slackers and thought only of finding their way home.

He was not too disheartened, however, to neglect a chance which offered for a shot at some ducks, and was highly elated on discovering that he had killed two and that they were within reach. Having had no breakfast and being now ravenously hungry, they halted at a little stream that ran into the marshy lake, built a fire, and butchered one of the ducks. The novel experiment of cutting slices from the fat bird, suspending them from the points of long sticks, and holding them close to the coals, was persisted in until their hunger was satisfied. They were glad enough to feast upon the flesh of the duck thus roasted, although it was rendered unsavory by the lack of salt.

"The thing for us to do, Hu," said Ted, as they rose, more cheerful, to move on, "is to keep pushing ahead where the swamp seems open. In that way we ought to find our way out after a while."

Following the line of least resistance as proposed, they tramped several miles and then, about mid-afternoon, were confronted by a seemingly impenetrable jungle.

"We'll have to turn back now," said Hubert dolefully.

"No, let's go right ahead," said Ted, pushing on. "We may have to travel more slowly, but we can get through, and maybe when we do get through we'll be out of the swamp. I think from what I've heard that the Okefinokee has a thick rim just like this round a great deal of it."

In reluctantly consenting, Hubert urged that they first provide themselves with "some fat lightwood splinters" for kindling. "It's low and wet down in there," he said, "and if we don't get through before night, we'll need them to make a fire."

This prudent suggestion having been acted upon, Ted pushed ahead, carrying his gun and the hatchet, and Hubert followed, his little gun in his right hand and the bundle of kindling under his left arm.

The jungle evidently covered thousands of acres and was at points so dense as to be penetrable only where wild animals had made their trails. Thorny brambles often an inch thick and running great lengths added to the discomfort and difficulty of forcing a passage. Everywhere the ground was wet, sometimes boggy, and in great part covered with water varying in depth from two inches to two feet. Often the hatchet had to be used before they could move forward a step, and they soon bitterly regretted their decision to force their way through. But the hope of accomplishing the task led Ted on until, as the sun declined, it became evident that they would be unable to retrace their steps before night.

When little more than half an hour of daylight was left the boys halted to make camp at a point where the jungle was less dense. Even here the water rose above their ankles and the prospect was a very gloomy one. Ted had often heard how belated Okefinokee hunters had been compelled to build sleeping platforms whereon to spend the night, and this the boys set about doing without delay.

Selecting two saplings about eight feet apart, the boys cut into them with the hatchet, at a point about three feet above the water, until they toppled and fell over in the same direction. These saplings, being young and stringy, did not entirely break from their stumps, and, while slanting gradually down to the water, offered a support to the smaller poles and brush which were bridged across from one to the other. Even with the addition of moss for bed and covering, the resting-place thus secured was far from comfortable, but was to be preferred to spending the night in a tree.

With their guns beside them, and their "fat" splinters and matches within reach, the boys lay down, thankful at least that it was as yet too early in spring for moccasins and other reptiles to be abroad.

Lying on an uncomfortable pile of boughs three feet above the stagnant water, in hunger and darkness, with little hope of finding their way home, their distress of body and mind was very severe. Hubert broke down at last and sobbed, refusing to be comforted, although Ted made a manful effort to do so.

"We'll get out of the swamp to-morrow or find the slackers' camp," he predicted, with pretended cheerfulness.

"We'll starve to death," wailed Hubert.

"You'll see," persisted Ted. "It will be one thing or the other, and either will suit me."

But they spoke little after they lay down, and that little in whispers;—as if fearing to betray their presence to some formidable beast that might lurk in the neighborhood. They were so exhausted that they soon fell into deep sleep.

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