"They's deer tuh be had aplenty," Tony had answered, readily enough; "an' now an' then a b'ar. Cats and coons c'n be run across any old time. Once in a long spell yuh see a painter. Turkeys lie on the sunny sides o' the swales an' ridges. Then in heaps o' places yuh c'n scare up flocks o' pa'tridges as fat as butter."
"They call quail by that name down here," remarked Phil, turning to Larry; "just as they call our black bass of the big mouth species a 'trout' in Florida. You have to understand these things, or else you'll get badly mixed up. And Tony, my chum here wants to know how about squirrels; for he thinks he could bag a few of that species of small game, given a chance, with my Marlin pump-gun."
"Sho! no end o' 'em along the hamaks, both grays an' fox squirrels," replied the swamp boy; "they's a tough lot though; and weuns always boils a squirrel fust before we fries him."
"I've done that many a time myself," laughed Phil; "so I guess the frisky little nut-crackers are about the same, North and South. But they make a good stew all right, when a fellow's sharp set with hunger. I can remember eating a mess, and thinking it the finest supper ever."
A good many miles had been covered by the time the afternoon waned; although not a great deal of southing may have been made. That river was the greatest thing to curve, and twist back on its course, Phil had ever met with. He declared that in some places he could throw a stone across a neck of land into the water which the boat had passed over half an hour back.
"Makes me think of a great big snake moving along over the ground," Larry had declared as he discussed this feature of the stream with the others.
But Tony assured them that as they progressed further this peculiarity would for the most part gradually vanish, and the river, growing wider and deeper, act in a more sensible manner.
The country was certainly as wild as heart could wish.
"Just to think," Larry had remarked, "outside of a few shanties below the town we haven't set eyes on the first sign of a man all afternoon. Why, a feller might imagine himself in the heart of Africa, or some other tropical country. Look at that big blue heron wading in the water ahead, would you? There he flaps his wings, and is off, with his long legs sticking out from under him like a fishing pole."
"Which is just about what they are," returned Phil; "since he has to use them to get his regular fish dinner right along. There's a white crane; and what d'ye call that other handsome white bird that just got up, Tony?"