“Which one shall we take, Dave?” asked Norton.
“Take dat one first,” replied the guide, pointing. “By-a-by we come to camp. Dave know.”
Taking the pole, he got into the larger of the two canoes, and Alec, Chester, and Mark took their places in front of him, as it had been arranged by drawing lots. In the other canoe, which was managed by a young Indian named Jim, the other two boys and Norton stowed themselves. At the last moment Captain Vinton had decided to remain at the settlement and await their return, for a short trip in the Everglades had no charms for him. This was perhaps just as well, for it evened the crews of the canoes, and gave a place to young Jim, who was a better guide than the worthy captain.
Both Dave and Jim knew the direction of the Seminole camp, and though they headed off into the wrong water-course once during the morning, they did not go far afield. The streams were wonderfully clear, except in places where the guides had to pole through enormous patches of water plants and grasses. For six miles they pushed into the Glades, and about noon they reached a small inland island on which was a rude landing made of wreckage from the coast.
Dave explained that his tribesmen often transport planks and timbers very long distances, lashed to their canoes on the outside. At this landing they found numerous poles standing in the mud where former owners had left them at random. The boys borrowed some of these poles, for they were eager to learn the art of swamp navigation from their friendly guides.
They all landed, and soon they were enjoying a fine lunch of fish, fruit, tea and hardtack. Later, strolling along the shore of the islet, Jim shot an alligator, which he deftly skinned with his sheath-knife. Then he hung the skin upon poles to stretch and dry.
“Me leave um here ’till come back,” he said.
“Why, Jim, aren’t you afraid somebody will steal it?” asked Billy in surprise.
Jim frowned and shook his head. Dave glanced sharply at the young scout, as if he were vexed at Billy’s question.
“Nobody steal,” he said quietly. “Only Injuns around here—miles, miles.” He waved his arms in a comprehensive sweep of the horizon. “Seminole always honest,” he added.