When they were once more safe Frank spoke:
“In future, Quatty,” he said, “you will lie flat on the floor when we are going up.”
CHAPTER XIX.
ON THE MOUND-BUILDERS’ ISLAND.
His high spirits considerably dashed by his misadventure, Quatty sat soberly enough on the transom till Frank ordered him forward to give the young captain sailing directions. They were now racing through the air above the Everglades themselves. Everywhere below them spread the yellowish brown expanse of saw-grass and water-course with here and there a clump of cabbage-palms marking an occasional dry spot. Far on the horizon, like a blue cloud, rested the nearest of the islets on one of which lay their goal. Beyond it like other cloud fragments, lay dim in the distance other patches of elevated land.
Save for the bird-life they could see about them there was no signs of animate existence beneath the aeroplane. Not even a canoe threaded any of the numerous water-courses that spread like a net over the ’glades. A more doleful scene could hardly be imagined.
“How did these men ever find their way to the interior?” wondered Frank.
“Dey must have had a guide, massa,” replied Quatty promptly, “nobody dat don’ know de ’glades can find him way in dem.”
“Where could they get such a guide?” questioned Frank.
“Plenty ob dem,” replied Quatty, “plenty ob Injuns take ’em whereber dey want.”
“But you said your tribe was opposed to them?” objected Harry.