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{{frabfp169.png}} || eagles of the sky ||

a sorry fix, and they might even be forced to
shout for assistance in order to save their lives,
thus revealing themselves to their enemy, for the
tenacious muck had a tendency to act in the same
treacherous fashion as quicksand, clutching the
victim and dragging him down, inch after inch
into its unfathomable depths.

Hardly were they started than one pleasing
discovery was made. Just as Jack had hoped
might be the case, a dim trail was struck not far
back from the border of the silent lake, that gave
promise of leading them in the course they
ocr>   planned to go
fix>   planned to go.

Jack made certain that there were no signs of
this trail having been used by human beings--at
least in recent times; possibly it may have
originally been an Indian trail in those days
when Osceola and his gallant followers dared
defy the powers at Washington and declare open
war upon the few white squatters at that time in
the southern portions of the Florida peninsula.
Or, what was more probable still, it might be
only the pathway used for ages by innumerable
four-footed denizens of the swamp,--deer, panthers,
raccoons, 'possum, foxes, wildcats and the
ocr>   like
fix>   like.

It was a meandering trail, evidently following
the path of least resistance for on both sides the
shrubbery, together with wild grape-vines and

[[169]]

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