“I guess that will suit me as well,” the professor announced. “I must soon begin to look for that rare butterfly. It is found in the region of the lakes, and I may be fortunate enough to run across a specimen very soon.”
“How are you going to know it when you see it?” asked Ned.
“By its color, for one thing. It is pink, and has blue and gold wings. Then it feeds in a peculiar manner. It spreads its wings out when taking nectar from a flower, and is frequently mistaken for a blossom. I hope I shall find several such butterflies.”
“We’ll help you look for them,” offered Jerry, as he started the boat.
It was but a short run from the head of the Indian river, where the travelers had entered, to Titusville, and, in order to enjoy the unusual scenery, Jerry ran the craft at slow speed. The boys watched the river as it stretched out before them, now narrowing and again widening, while they puffed slowly past groves of palmetto trees that the orange growers depended on as a screen for their groves, which might otherwise be frosted by the cold winds from the Atlantic.
“Can’t we go ashore and get some fruit?” asked Bob, when they had traveled some miles.
“I guess the owners would have no objection if we took some,” said the professor. “I understand they always invite visitors to help themselves.”
The boys decided to act on this suggestion, and soon the boat was anchored at the shore and the four voyagers went inland until they found an orange grove. They met an overseer who invited them to gather all they could eat.
“These are much better than the others we had,” spoke Bob, biting into a luscious fruit.
“He’s getting to be quite an expert,” declared Jerry.