"Follow the gulf," he directed, as they bade him good-by. "You ought to be out of the forest by to-morrow night. You will meet more rivers, but they contain no crocodiles so you will be able to cross them without danger."
He shook hands gravely with each at parting, repeating quaintly the words of a hymn the good missionary had doubtless taught him. As our little party once more took up their weary march, the familiar words so quaintly quoted by the solitary lad in the gloomy swamp kept thrumming through their thoughts.
"God be with you till we meet again,
By His counsel guide uphold you,
With His sheep securely fold you,
God be with you till we meet again."
They tramped steadily the balance of the afternoon and at night made camp on the edge of another large river. Here they were fortunate enough in finding a large bed of big mussels or fresh-water oysters, upon which they made a delicious supper.
Sunrise found them again on their way, eager to be out of the somber, gloomy forest. They had already spent three days in its gloomy depths and they were heartily sick of it and its crawling serpents. They paused but a few minutes at noon to rest a bit, and to eat a few of the mussels they had brought with them, then pushed on again.
"I believe we are nearly out of this hateful forest," Charley said, as they waded along its edge. "It seems to me that the cypress are not quite so dense, and, I fancy, I can get a glimpse of some trees of a darker green ahead."
An hour's more wading proved his guess correct. Palmettoes, satinwoods, bays, and even pines, began to be mingled with the cypress. The color of the water changed gradually from its fresh blackness to the salt tinge of greenish-blue, and, at last, they came to a stretch of sandy beach which they hailed with joy for their feet were getting tender and sore from the constant wading.
Long before dark, they were clear of the dismal, floating forest and made camp on a high, sandy bluff by the side of a clear, purling little brook. Their supper was a feast; roasted buds of the cabbage palmettoes, black bass fresh from the creek, oysters, clams, crab claws, and for dessert, huckleberries which grew in profusion around them.
When it was finished, they stretched out on the beds they had made of dry, fragrant sea moss before the glowing fire in more hopeful spirits than they had been in many days. They were lying thus chattering contentedly when they received an unexpected visitor. He came as silently as an Indian. They neither saw nor heard him until he stepped into the fire's glow. He was a man of about forty years of age, dressed in buckskin and was of rather engaging appearance. His name, he said, was Watson, and he was a hunter and trapper.
From him they learned they were but a day's journey from Tampa, and that a good beach extended the whole distance.