So wild
and secluded was the spot, that he would never have discovered the
cabin from any other point than this, which he had been so fortunate
as to find.
His study and practice under Wetzel now stood him in good stead. He
picked out the best path over the rough stones and through the
brambles, always keeping under cover. He stepped as carefully as if
the hunter was behind him. Soon he reached level ground. A dense
laurel thicket hid the cabin, but he knew the direction in which it
lay. Throwing himself flat on the ground, he wormed his way through
the thicket, carefully, yet swiftly, because he knew there was no
time to lose. Finally the rear of the cabin stood in front of him.
It was made of logs, rudely hewn, and as rudely thrown together. In
several places clay had fallen from chinks between the timbers,
leaving small holes. Like a snake Joe slipped close to the hut.
Raising his head he looked through one of the cracks.
Instantly he shrank back into the grass, shivering with horror. He
almost choked in his attempt to prevent an outcry.
Chapter XVIII.
The sight which Joe had seen horrified him, for several moments,
into helpless inaction. He lay breathing heavily, impotent, in an
awful rage. As he remained there stunned by the shock, he gazed up
through the open space in the leaves, trying to still his fury, to
realize the situation, to make no hasty move.
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