“We’ll be waiting here for you,” remarked Jerry, as the scientist got his butterfly-catching accessories together.
“No telling when I’ll be back,” answered Uriah Snodgrass. “I’m going to get that prize insect, and it may take longer than these men think.”
“Oh, yo’ll git yo’ butterfly,” said one of the negroes with a broad grin. “We knows whar dere’s lots ob ’em.”
“Hadn’t you better wait until morning?” suggested Ned. “It’s well along in the afternoon now, and you can make an early start to-morrow.”
But the professor would hear of no delay. He had often spent many hours in the open while searching for curiosities of nature, and a night in the everglades did not alarm him. The negroes said they would find some sort of shelter, and, having packed up some food, the scientist announced he was ready.
With mingled feelings the boys watched their friend go off in the canoe with the colored men. They were disturbed by a vague uneasiness, but none of them could tell what it was.
“Well,” remarked Ned, when a turn of the sluggish swamp stream hid the canoe from sight, “we’ve no time to lose. We must make camp before it gets dark.”
Willing hands made light work of setting up the tent and moving into it blankets and bed clothing for the night. The Dartaway was moored in a little cove, and after supper Bob and Ned took their guns and set out for a shot at some loons, of which there were many about the lake. Jerry carried his rifle, hoping to get a chance at an alligator.
The boys followed the edge of the lake, keeping watch for anything in the way of game. They saw several loons, but the queer, big birds were so far away that a shot was impossible. As Bob walked along, a little in advance, he came to a sudden stop behind a clump of bushes.