CHAPTER XV.
INTO THE EVERGLADES.
When Norton returned to Key West, five days later, he found the boys still there, their number increased by a new arrival, who was none other than Mark Anderson, Captain Bowling’s nephew. Mark had “turned up” quite unexpectedly to visit his uncle, having come on a sailing vessel manned by the crew whom his father and the other surfmen of the Red Key Station had rescued from the Mary Jane. As Hugh expressed it, it was “a reunion of old friends,” and everyone had been surprised and glad to meet again.
As Mark had soon made friends with the scouts of the northern patrol, they invited him to join them on a brief trip through the Everglades. This he was only too glad to do, for he had never seen the southwestern part of the Glades, and he was an enthusiastic young explorer. He was frankly delighted at the prospect. Moreover, having been through other sections of that mysterious region, he was somewhat familiar with the methods which the Indians adopt in traveling. Much to Dave’s surprise, Mark showed considerable knowledge of Seminole customs and characteristics; in fact, he quite won Dave’s heart, though Dave would have been the last person in the world to give any outward signs of regard.
“That boy heap good,” was his only comment to Captain Vinton, after Mark and his new friends had spent an afternoon on board the Arrow, helping to stow away provisions in the cabin and to make everything ship-shape for the return cruise and the by-trip to the Everglades.
“How have you learned so much about the Indians, Mark?” inquired Alec, that same evening, when all had taken leave of their hospitable friends at Key West,—friends of Mr. Sands,—and had gone aboard.
“Oh, I picked it up from a man named Ed Daylor, who’s a great pal of Dad’s,” answered Mark. “Last summer he took me on a hunting trip to Lake Okeechobee. He’s been among the Indians for many years, hunting and fishing, and he’s a regular big swamp woodsman. He can follow a trail through the swamps and never once lose his bearings. And he’s a corker at poling.”
“What’s that?”
“Poling? Why, you have to use a pole instead of a paddle, in traveling through the Glades. Don’t you, Dave?”
“Sure. Seminole no good with paddle,” admitted the guide. “Heap good with pole.”
“Even on salt water a Seminole usually poles or sails round the coast,” put in Captain Vinton. “You’re likely to see one of Dave’s tribe cruisin’ along shore ’most any time in a cypress-log canoe,—makin’ fair progress, too. By the way, I’ve got two good poles on board now. Thought I’d better take ’em along, as good ones are hard to find even along the coast. Go an’ fetch one, Dave, my hearty.”