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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Tom Slade on Mystery Trail"

"
After about three quarters of an hour of this wearisome climb they came
out on the edge of a lofty minor cliff which commanded a panoramic view
of Temple Camp. They were, in fact, close to the edge of the more
precipitous ascent and near the very point whence the eagle had swooped
down.
From this spot the path descended into the thicket and down the steep
declivity. Below them lay Black Lake with tiny black specks upon
it--canoes manned by scouts. The faintest suggestion of human voices
could be heard, but they did not sound human; rather like voices from
another world.
Suddenly, in the vast, solemn stillness below them a shrill whistling
sounded clear out of the dense jungle. It might have been a hundred
yards down, or fifty; Tom could not say.
He was not at all excited nor elated. Holding up one hand to warn Hervey
to silence, he stood waiting, listening intently.
Again the whistle sounded, shrill, clear-cut, in the still morning air.


CHAPTER XXXIV
THE RESCUE

"Take off your shoes and leave them here," Tom whispered; "and follow me
and don't speak. Step just where I step."
Tom's soft moccasins were better even than stocking feet and he moved
down into the thicket stealthily, silently. Not a twig cracked beneath
his feet. He lifted the impediments of branch and bush aside and let
them spring easily back into place again without a sound. Hervey crawled
close behind him, passing through these openings while Tom held the
entangled thicket apart for both to pass.


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