"I am going till I get a shot at a golden heron."
"Nonsense! There is no golden heron."
"You think so?"
"I know it. The golden heron is a myth. White hunters have searched the remote fastnesses of the Florida swamps for a golden heron, but no such bird have they ever found. The Indians are the only ones to see golden herons."
"If the Indians can see them, white men may find them. I shall not be satisfied till I have shot one."
"Then you'll never be satisfied."
"Oh, I don't know about that, professor. I am something of an Indian myself. You know the Seminoles are honest and peaceable, and——"
"All Indians are liars. I would not take the word of a Seminole under any condition. Come, Frank, don't be foolish; let's turn round and go back. We may get bewildered on these winding waterways which twist here and there through swamps of cypress and rushes. We were foolish to come without a guide, but——"
"We could not obtain one until to-morrow, and I wished to come to-day."
"You may be sorry you did not wait."