"Do you suppose any other two fellows ever had such queer times on a canoe trip as we are having?" asked Worth.
"Indeed I do not," replied Sumner. "And this is the very queerest part of it. Here we are still on a canoe cruise, without our own canoes, without knowing where we are going, and without having anything to do with the management of the craft we are cruising in. It will be a queer experience to tell about when you get back to New York, won't it?"
"Yes, indeed, it will, though New York seems so very far away that it is hard to realize that I shall ever get there again. If we could only see an Indian village, though! It seems too bad to be going right through an Indian country and yet see nothing of its people."
"Oh, well, we are not through with the 'Glades yet, and you may still have a chance to see plenty of Indians."
In spite of Sumner's hopefulness, Worth's wish did not seem any nearer being gratified four days from that time than it did then. Each night's journey was a repetition of the first, except that they grew shorter with the growing moon. The Indians refused to travel except in darkness, and never came for their passengers until after the moon had set. Each day was spent in a comfortable camp, to which they were so closely confined that they could learn nothing of their surroundings. These camps were always located on small islands, and were always reached before daylight.
Quorum always arrived at the camping-place some time in advance of the others, and he always found the canoes and the cruiser awaiting him. From them he was allowed to take whatever he thought the party would need, but after that first night the boats invariably disappeared before the others reached them.
Sumner said this was a trick the canoes had learned early on the cruise, and they had probably taught it to the other boat.
Who caused their disappearance or where they went to, none of them knew; and but for Quorum the owners of the several craft would have heard nothing of their whereabouts or welfare.
During this strange journey, as they were unable to do any hunting or foraging for themselves, Quorum was obliged to exchange so many of their stores for fresh meat, fruit, and vegetables, that he finally announced them to be nearly exhausted.
At length, one very dark night, the passengers, who were half dozing in the bottoms of the canoes, became conscious of a change. The darkness all at once grew more intense, until they could barely distinguish the forms of the Indians in the bow and stern of their respective boats. A rank odor of decaying vegetation filled the air, while the swish of grass and bonnets was no longer heard. They seemed to be moving more swiftly and easily than usual. Finally, when they landed, it did not seem as though they were on an island; and as they made their way towards the light of the camp-fire, about which Quorum was already busy, they suddenly realized that it was reflected from a background of pine-trees.