The vines tripped us, and we frequently fell headlong.

We struggled on determinedly for nearly an hour, and were perhaps a mile from the Hospital.
The moon came up, and its light showed that the creek continued its course through a dense jungle like that we had been traversing, while on the high ground to our left were the open pine woods I have previously described.
We stopped and debated for a few minutes.

We recalled our promise to keep in the Creek, the experience of other boys who had tried to escape and been caught by the hounds.

If we staid in the Creek we were sure the hounds would not find our trail, but it was equally certain that at this rate we would be exhausted and starved before we got out of sight of the prison.

It seemed that we had gone far enough to be out of reach of the packs patrolling immediately around the Stockade, and there could be but little risk in trying a short walk on the dry ground.