Godfrey ducked his head on the instant and crawled swiftly away from the sycamore on his hands and knees.

He was careful to keep the tree between himself and those in the boat until he reached the cane, and then he arose to his feet and worked his way toward his camp with all possible haste.
"Them two oneasy chaps has come back agin, just as I thought they would," said he to himself, "and our Dave's with 'em.

Don's got his rifle now and his dogs, too, so't thar ain't no use tryin' to scare him this time.

I must hunt a new hidin'-place now." Godfrey stopped in his camp just long enough to seize his rifle and ammunition; after which he plunged into the cane again and ran toward the head of the island.

The muddy beach was thickly covered with drift-wood, and behind a convenient pile of branches and logs Godfrey crouched down and waited to see what was going to happen.
The actions of Don's hounds made the young hunters almost as nervous as they made Godfrey Evans.