CHAPTER XXIX.
AN IDLE DAY.
Much to their disappointment, our little party were forced to remain where they were the next day. The long, continuous soaking in the brackish water had made their feet so tender that walking on the sand was very painful. They prepared as usual for the start but they had not gone more than a hundred yards when they gave up the attempt and returned to where they had camped.
"It is just as well for us to lay by, a day, anyway," Charley observed in an attempt to force cheerfulness from their enforced detention. "Tampa is only a day away and we couldn't go into the city like we are. We would be arrested as tramps as soon as the police caught sight of us. Gee! but we are a tough-looking gang. Captain, you look like a typical 'Weary Willie.' All you need is a stick, a tomato can, and a handkerchief full of hand-outs to be a complete 'knight of the road.'"
"You haven't got any room to make fun of my appearance," grinned the old sailor. "You look like a cross between a coal heaver and a chimney sweep and Walter looks just as bad. It don't show up quite as bad on Chris."
"Dat's de advantage ob bein' a nigger," agreed Chris, composedly. "A nigger can't show de dirt much. If I was one ob you white chillens I'd be plum ashamed ob myself—I sho' would."
And indeed, the little party was a sight to behold. Their clothes were stiff from mud, slime, and brine, and their skins were grimed from the smoke of their camp-fires. They had washed thoroughly, and often, but the mud and slime of the swamp had made useless all efforts to keep clean.
"First, we had better take a good wash ourselves and scrub good and clean with this white sand. Then wash out our clothes as good as we can. This warm sun will soon dry them out and keep us from catching cold. While they are drying, we can be getting something to eat for the day and fix up our feet. When that's all done we want to lay quiet the balance of the day and give our feet a chance to get into shape," said Charlie.
Without soap, the washing of their clothes was a slow, laborious job. Luckily their clothing was comparatively new and strong or it would never have stood the rubbing and pounding it received. At last, however, the operation was completed and their pants and shirts were spread on the bushes to dry. This done, they turned their attention to the laying in of a supply of food for the day. While Chris, with the fish-line, sought a likely looking pool near the creek's mouth, Walter and Charley hunted for oysters and clams, and the captain busied himself in picking a generous supply of huckleberries. In a short time, the two boys had collected enough shell-fish for a couple of days, and joined the old sailor in picking the black, glossy berries. By the time they had gathered all that were wanted, Chris had succeeded in landing three big sea bass and a small shark about four feet in length.
"Hold on, don't do that," Charley exclaimed, as the little darkey was casting the shark back into the water. "That shark is the very thing we want. I would not take a dollar for it."