"Those birds have got first-class smellers," replied Higgins, "and they're getting the tempting odor of this frying meat right now. Do you see it excite them? Not a bit. And let me tell you those are mighty wise old birds. They must feel awful confident of landing us since the smell of a few chunks of meat don't interest them at all. Did you see any animal signs while you were getting the wood?" "Eat!" said Payne sharply. "Which means you didn't. I thought so. Not even an alligator. No wonder those buzzards were glad to see us." In spite of, or rather because of, the seriousness of their situation they consumed an extraordinary amount of venison; then, stuffed to repletion, stretched themselves out upon the warm earth as if they had not a worry in the world. After the drowsiness of the heavy meal had passed they sat up and looked round leisurely. So far as they could see the narrow strip which comprised the bank of the mud gulley they had crossed was the only solid land in sight, and because of the trees and palmetto scrub they could not tell how far this ran in either direction. Behind them was the river of mud through which they had wallowed. Before them lay the apparently limitless expanse of the same formation, dotted sparsely with clumps of grass and flowers and at rare intervals with tiny mangrove islands. No signs of animal life were apparent. Even the birds were absent. There were only the buzzards overhead--waiting, waiting, waiting. "See any water while you were hunting wood?" yawned Higgins. "I need about a gallon to top off that meat." "Yes; come on; there's a little water hole down here." Payne led the way down the bank to a slight hollow where water had seeped up through the mud. "Go easy on it," he advised as Higgins kneeled by the pool. "It doesn't look extra good to me." "It's wet anyhow," said Higgins and scooped a double handful to his lips. He spat instantly. "What's the matter?" Higgins again sampled the blackish water. "Taste it," he said. Payne obeyed. He looked at Higgins. Then they both stood up, shaking the water from their fingers. "Salt!" "Yes." Higgins took out his pipe and slowly began to fill it. Payne looked round. "Hig, that means we've got to hustle and find a way out in a hurry. In this heat we can't go long without water. I suspect it's all salt round here. I remember I've read of salt water between the Everglades and the sea. You take the bank downstream and see what you find. I'll go upstream. We'll meet here in an hour." They parted at once. But Payne was back at the camp fire in an hour and Higgins was there ahead of him. "What did you, Hig?" "I found a mangrove swamp that a bobcat couldn't get through. Did you have any luck?" Payne shook his head. "This high ground ends less than a mile up there. And then there's nothing but mud--not a thing but mud. Was there water round the mangroves?" "Yes. Salt. Salter than salt herring."