Ordinarily they would have relished its delicate flavor, but they were beginning to tire of an all-meat diet. They were beginning to crave vegetables, bread, coffee, and the other varieties of food that make up civilized meals.
They were munching the last of their frugal repast when they sprang to their feet in amazed surprise.
"Good morning," said a voice right behind them.
Standing but a few feet away was a splendid-looking Indian lad, leaning gracefully upon a long-barreled rifle. "Good morning," said the young Seminole again, smiling at their surprise.
"Good morning," stammered Charley, in reply. "Who are you? Where did you come from? Where are we?"
The Seminole's smile widened at the volley of questions.
"My name is Willie John," he said in perfect English. "I come from the Big Cypress Swamp. Some of my people are camped there, hunting. You now are at the Snake River. It is about fifty miles from Tampa. Are you lost?"
"Yes," replied Walter, recovering from his surprise. "We are, or rather were, both shipwrecked and lost. We had begun to think that we were the only people in the world. That's why your voice surprised us so."
"I see," said the Indian lad, with his pleasant smile. "Perhaps it will be very pleasant to help you a little."