To the left and rear of the camp, though they could hardly make out the shore lines now, lay a small lake. Tensas it was called. The waters were always foul and muddy, and alive underneath the surface, though the boys could only surmise this. They had observed no signs of life on the surface, but then they had had little opportunity to observe much of anything except the rain.
On beyond the camp they were now able to make out faintly the straight stems of the canebrake that stood row upon row in straight lines, as if they had been arranged by human hands on the lines run out by engineers.
Afterward the lads sat down to breakfast, which, of course, was eaten inside the tents. The boys now wanted to know what was to be done about their situation.
"Nothing at present," answered Mr. Lilly. "The water will not rise much more. You see it is running off in a pretty swift current already. Of course the water wouldn't interfere much, but the going would be sloppy. You wouldn't enjoy it."
"Is there water in the canebrake?" asked Tad.
"Oh, no. The cane is on higher ground, as I have already told you. There is one thing to be thankful for—the rain drives away the mosquitoes," smiled Lilly.
"Yes, but I dread to think what they will do when the rain stops and the sun comes out," answered Tad.
Everyone was wet. The rain had found its way through the little tents, and a constant drip, drip, drip was heard above the roaring of the deluge on the roofs. The interiors of the tents were steaming; the heat was greater than before the rain. The tents smelled stuffy, but the boys were good-natured. No one except Stacy uttered complaint. Being used to Stacy's growls, they gave no heed to him.
Later in the day the boys wrapped themselves in their rubber blankets and went to sleep.
For three full days did this state of affairs exist. Then the skies cleared as suddenly as they had become overcast. A burning sun blazed down, and the heavy mists rose in clouds. One felt that Nature was pluming herself after her long bath. Black squirrels chattered in the tops of the tall cypress, thrushes broke out into an incessant clucking, mockingbirds and finches burst into song, above which was heard the twitterings of thousands of sparrows.