“He is one of the Seminole tribe,” put in the professor. “I recognize the characteristics.”
“Paddle catch in long grass,” went on Ottiby, as if in excuse for such a child of nature as an Indian letting water get the best of him. “Me go overboard. Get caught in weeds. No can git loose. Steamboat come along. Boy pull Ottiby out. Good boy. Ottiby no forget. Can get canoe?”
This last seemed to be a question which Ned interpreted as a desire on Ottiby’s part to have his boat back again. Accordingly the Dartaway was sent ahead again, and the frail craft, which was hollowed from a log, was secured, together with the paddle which had come to the surface.
“Good!” spoke Ottiby with a grunt, when he saw his property secure. “Me no forget white man and boys,” and he looked at the travelers.
As he caught sight of the knife in the professor’s hand, and saw Jerry’s bared foot, with the bloody arrow head sticking in it, the Indian gave a start of surprise.
“Boy hurt?” he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer. “Cut out arrow. Me know. Go ashore. Me get somet’ing stop pain. Ottiby know. Put ashore!”
“Steer the boat to land, Ned,” said the professor. “I believe we saved this Indian in the nick of time. He probably knows of some plant that I can use to make it less painful for Jerry while I cut the arrow out.”