Such were the surroundings of the settlement on Tampa Bay.
The village itself nestled beneath the hills already mentioned, and comprised a church, some half-dozen stores, with a number of substantial dwellings, whilst a rude wharf, and several schooners moored near by, gave tokens of intercourse with other places.
It was a morning in May, in Florida, as elsewhere, the sweetest month in the year.
Borne upon the balmy atmosphere was the hum of bees and the melody of birds, mingled with the voices of young girls and men engaged in the labour of their farms and fields.
The lowing of cattle could be heard in the distant grazing grounds, while the tillers of the soil were seen at work upon their respective plantations.
There was one who looked upon this cheerful scene without seeming to partake of its cheerfulness.
Standing upon the top of the hill was a man of tall, gaunt figure, with a face somewhat austere in its expression.
His strongly lined features, with a firm expression about the mouth, marked him for a man of no common mould.
He appeared to be about sixty.
As his keen grey eyes wandered over the fields below, there was a cold, determined light in them which betrayed no pleasant train of thought.