Part 26 (1/2)

Penny was about to turn and retrace her steps, when she noticed something else--footsteps in the muck not far from the end of the boardwalk.

”Someone has been here recently,” she reflected. ”Those prints must have been made since the last rain.”

Even from some distance away. Penny could see that the shoemarks were small ones.

”Probably the person who made them is the same fellow who built the campfire,” she thought. ”Wonder where the footprints lead?”

Penny tried to draw her eyes away, but the footprints fascinated and challenged her. She longed to investigate them further. However, she had not forgotten Trapper Joe's warning that it was unsafe to leave the boardwalk.

”If I watch out for snakes and only go a short ways, what harm can it do?” she reasoned.

A moment more and Penny was off the walk, treading her way cautiously along the muddy bank. She paused to listen.

All was very quiet--so still that it gave the girl an uneasy feeling, as if she were being watched by a mult.i.tude of hostile eyes.

The footprints led to a large tree in a fairly open area. On one of the low, overhanging bushes, a bit of dark wool had been snagged.

”Someone climbed up there either to rest or sleep,” Penny thought.

In the bushes close by, the girl heard a faint, rustling sound.

”Who's there?” she called sharply.

No one answered. All was still for a moment. Then again she heard the whisper of disturbed leaves.

Penny's flesh began to creep. Suddenly losing all interest in the footprints, she decided to beat a hasty retreat to the boardwalk.

The decision came too late. Before she could move, a dozen big rooters led by an old gray boar, swarmed out of the bushes, surrounding her.

Too frightened and startled to cry out, Penny huddled back against the tree trunk. The rooters had spread out in a circle and slowly were coming closer.

Retreat to the safety of the boardwalk was completely cut off. The leader of the pack now was so near that she plainly could see his razor-sharp ivory tusks. In another moment, the animal would attack.

Throwing off the paralysis of fear which gripped her, Penny swung herself into the lowermost branch of the big trees. The package of lunch she had carried, dropped from her hand, falling at the base of the trunk.

Instantly, the rooters were upon it, tearing savagely at the meat and at each other. Sick with horror, Penny clung desperately to the tree limb.

”If I slip now, I'm a gonner!” she thought. ”Those rooters are half starved. If I fall, they'll attack me!”

Penny considered shouting for Louise, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Her chum probably was too far away to hear her cries.

If she did come, unarmed as she was, she might leave the boardwalk only to endanger herself.

”Louise can't help me,” Penny told herself. ”I brought this on myself by not heeding Old Joe's warning. Now it's up to me to get out of the mess the best way I can.”

The girl lay still on the limb, trying not to draw the attention of the rooters. Once they finished the meat, she was hopeful they would go away.

Then she could make a dash for the walk.