He spoke about it to his friends.
“The poor animal must have been killed during the earthquake, and his master was too much excited to notice his absence,” said Leo.
The attire worn by our friends was of the style of the places they had lived in, and they looked curious enough as they made their way through the swamp.
When they came through the Everglades, they had chipped the trees on the route they took, and as these marks were still plainly visible they anticipated but little difficulty in getting back to their boat, the Maid of the Marsh, which was looked upon with so much disgust by the Yankee.
They found the boat half covered with mud, but otherwise she was uninjured.
It took them nearly a day to clean her and get her ready for use once more, and when this job was finished all hands felt better.
A week or so later eight forlorn-appearing men might have been seen camped upon the borders of Lake Okechobee.
They were Dick Vincey, Leo Malvern, Prof. Remington Easy, Martin Haypole, Andrew Jones, Philander Owens, Reginald Lacy and the darky, Lucky.
The long gowns they wore were torn and dirty, and they looked more like a crowd of ragpickers than anything else.
But they would soon be in the limits of civilization again, and they felt thankful for it.