ead
because of the turns, and Scotty served as his eyes, motioning from one
side to the other as the channel shifted.

Rick wondered if the sound of the outboard motor could be heard at the
mansion, and decided it probably could not. The heavy marsh grass was a
good sound baffle and the motor was relatively quiet. He leaned out,
trying to see ahead. There were many birds in the swamp, and next to the
boat a surprised snapping turtle looked up briefly, then scurried into
the mud for cover.

The channel was narrowing now. Scotty looked back and drew his hand
across his throat in the old signal to "cut." Rick instantly killed the
motor.

"I'll pole us," Scotty said softly. He began using the boat hook as a
pole, digging it into the bank and pulling the runabout ahead. Finally
he stopped, and wiped sweat from his face. "This is about as far as we
can go."

Rick took a swipe at a black fly that bit him on the arm. "Okay. Let's
collect the gear and get started."

Scotty tied the boat to a projecting root while Rick took the equipment
from its place under the seat and put it within reach on the forward
deck, then jumped ashore. His feet hit apparently solid ground, but kept
right on going down into a foot of ooze.

He lifted one foot that was a black blob of mud, tried to locate more
solid footing on which to place it, and gave it up as a bad job. He
leaned over and took the telescope case and tripod.

Scotty picked up the Polaroid camera and their binoculars and came
ashore, sinking into the swamp as Rick had done. He grinned wryly.
"We're up to our knees in this mystery already."

Rick lifted a foot with five pounds of mud clinging to it. "If we get in
it up to our hips, we'll have a fine time getting out. How far do you
think it is to the duck blind?"

"Maybe twenty-five yards. Not much more than that, maybe less. Come on."

Slowly, because of the need to haul each foot out of the mud, the boys
started through the swale. The marsh grass was over their heads, forming
a thick screen. The grass, however, was no handicap to the biting flies.
Within a few seconds each boy was carrying equipment in one hand, using
the other to fight off the swarms. An occasional mosquito added to their
discomfort.

The muddy ooze thinned, then gave way to higher ground. The marsh grass
was less thick and there was an occasional clump of willow. Rick studied
the terrain ahead, and in a moment caught sight of dark-green foliage
among