After another wait the fellow at post one again flashed his torch--on his watch, no doubt, because from time to time there were other flashes and, after the last of these, he called half-past seven. That was good for us, too--the half hours! Eight o'clock came, then half after, then nine. The lights in the camp had been extinguished. A real owl hooted mournfully somewhere back in the forest. I was waiting for post one to be called again when a voice, not twelve inches from my face, whispered: "All right; come; slow like me. When you think you can no go more slow, then go two times as slow." Had it not been for that last piece of advice I might have made a mess of things, but by moving at first scarcely more than an inch a minute, by distributing my feeling sense to every part of my body, detecting the slightest pull at my clothing, the merest contact with any little twig that might traitorously snap--in fact, by almost wishing myself along--I came at last free of the palmettoes and lay beside him. From there our progress was easier, and shortly we got to our hands and knees. After following in this manner for two hundred yards Smilax stopped and sat down. "You do good," he said. "Wait; me go back." "What for?" I asked, in surprise. "Tell me what Echochee said?" "After 'while," he answered. "Me go fix pine needles where we crawl out; then take look at all's-well-men. You wait." I should never have thought about obliterating our trail in the pine needles, yet now saw that it was a very necessary thing to do, for men can not crawl on their stomachs without mussing the ground if it is at all soft. In the morning those fellows would see our tracks leading from the palmetto patch and, to a certainty, be waiting for us when we returned. He was back sooner than I expected, and we took a good swinging pace to camp. Not till he had made a mere handful of fire and warmed over some coffee (gods of good things, how delicious it was!) and I had lighted my pipe (O, goddess Nicotine, what a pipe!) would he speak. Then suddenly he said: "We no lay out to-morrow." "Why?" I asked, quickly alarmed that Sylvia had refused to come. "No use. When men on guard call, we find 'em easy. No much palmetto; we slip up good." I laughed; not at what he said, but because to laugh was irresistible. My nerves were just a little drunk on relaxation. "Come across with what Echochee said," I told him. He grinned and nodded.