A NIGHT ATTACK.
Most of that day they dropped leisurely down Hawk Channel and at night
anchored off a small key covered with a luxuriant tropical growth and
topped by the feathery crowns of a group of stately royal palms. It was
early afternoon when they let go the anchor and the boys lost no time in
getting into the Squeegee and rowing ashore. They carried with them the
_Carrier Dove's_ water keg which held ten gallons and which had been
discovered by them to be half empty the first time they went forward for
a drink. What water there was in it was so stale as to be almost
undrinkable. Pork Chops was summarily sent for and arraigned on the
"quarter deck."
"I done declar I clean forgit all about deh watah," he gasped, as Frank
read him a lecture on his carelessness. Indeed everything about the
_Carrier Dove_ bore witness to Pork Chops' shiftless ways. Her rigging
was spliced in innumerable places and her halyards badly frayed so that
they wedged in the blocks sometimes. Her paint was peeled off her sides
in large flakes and altogether she was quite as disreputable a
proposition as her owner; but in her, Pork Chops had navigated the
waters about Miami for many years and was accounted a skilful mariner.
The boys uttered a cry of delight as the Squeegee's nose grated on a
beach of white sand and they sprang out. The key was a veritable
fairyland. Lime, lemon and guava trees grew almost down to the water's
edge and further back were several wild banana plants with their yellow
fruit hanging temptingly for the boys to pluck. And pluck it they did
and declared they had never known what real bananas were like
before,--which is hardly surprising as the fruit is picked for the
northern market long before it is ripe and shipped in a green state.
After they had fairly gorged themselves on fruit, they set out to look
for a spring. They were not long in finding it and Billy Barnes, dipper
in hand, started in to fill the keg. He had ladled out a few dipperfuls
when he started back with a yell. The others, who had been roaming about
in the vicinity, hurried back and found the reporter gazing petrified at
a huge cotton mouth moccassin. Frank, who had one of the sixteen gauge
guns with him, quickly despatched the creature, which was about three
feet long.
"Ugh, what a monster," exclaimed Lathrop, as he gazed at the ugly,
dirty-brown colored body.
"He is a pretty sizeable reptile and that's a fact," remarked Frank,
"But what would you say to a serpent twenty feet long?"
The others looked at him incredulously.
"Twenty feet long--Oh come, Frank," laughed Billy. "That sounds like the
fish that got away."
"Lieutenant Willoughby, who explored the Everglades in 1897, reports
that he heard from Indians and believed himself that in the southern
portions of the Everglades there are snakes bigger than any known
species," replied Frank, "his guide killed a reptile marked with
longitudinal stripes,--but otherwise like a rattlesnake,--which measured
nine feet from tip to tip."
"Well, I don't want to be around when any such creatures as that are
about," said Lathrop.
"I'm with you there," cried Billy, "snake stories are all right in print
but I don't want to figure in any of them."
"Come on, boys,--volunteers to get supper," cried Frank, after the group
had strolled back to the boat landing,--all hands taking turn at packing
the water keg.
"Supper?" cried the others.
"Yes," replied Frank, "we can row the keg off to the _Carrier Dove_, get
some duffle ashore and camp here in the jungle for a night. There's no
use trying to navigate this coast in the dark. Who says--yes?"
Of course they all did,--hailing his suggestion with acclamation,--and,
after Frank and Harry had rowed off to the sloop, Lathrop and Billy
Barnes set about getting in a supply of firewood and laying a fire
between two green logs set parallel, in a manner that did credit to
Bill's training as a woodsman in Nicaragua.
Frank and Harry were too tender-hearted to resist Ben Stubbs' pleadings
to be made one of the party--moreover he promised to cook them what he
called a bush supper if allowed to come ashore, so that when the boys
shoved off in the placid water on their return trip to the Island Ben
made one of the Squeegee's load.
As soon as they got ashore Ben approvingly commended Billy's camp-fire
arrangements, at which the reporter glowed with pleasure. Somehow in the
wilderness a small tribute to a boy's handiness will send him into the
seventh heaven of gratified pride. Under Ben Stubbs' orders the party
had soon secured several bunches of oysters from the mangroves,--which
were laden with the bivalves where they dipped into the water at low
tide,--as well as half a dozen turtles, small fellows which Ben declared
made as good eating as the terrapin of the northern restaurant and
banquet. To crown the feast, Frank, who had been scouting about with one
of the shot-guns, brought down a couple of small ducks.
The oysters Ben roasted in their shells, laying them when finished on
plantain leaves on previously heated rocks. The turtles he prepared by
scalding them and then, after cutting down the center of the lower
shell, the meat was easily got at. Salted and peppered inside and out
and the meat removed from the shell after a half-an-hour's boiling with
onions and the young campers had a meal fit for a president, who, as
Billy observed, "is a heap more particular than a king."
The ducks were incased by Ben in a sort of matrix of clay--feathers and
all,--having first been cleaned. Thus enclosed they were placed in the
glowing embers and more hot coals raked over on top of them. When in
half an hour Ben drew out the hard-baked clay casings and cracked them
free with a hatchet,--which automatically skinned the birds and plucked
them at the same time,--the boys were ready to acclaim him a very prince
of chefs. The meal was eaten with pilot bread and washed down with
lemonade made from spring water and lemonade tablets. For dessert they
had bananas and wild oranges. Many times after that when they were
plunged in hardships and difficulties the boys talked over that first
meal on the lone Florida Key.
After supper there was no washing up to do; big plantain leaves having
served as plates and hunting-knives as table utensils. The little party
sat round the big camp-fire and sang songs and talked and laughed till
Pork Chops out on the _Carrier Dove_ muttered to himself as he tried to
sleep.
"Dem white boys done bein' as clean crazy as loons,--yas, sah."
However, at last even the boys' spirits began to flag and they tucked
themselves up in their blankets and lulled by the croaking and snoring
of a big tree lizard in a near-by custard apple-tree, sank into dreams
which were more or less tinctured by the happenings of the last few
days.
Frank, more wakeful than the others, lay awake perhaps half an hour
after Ben Stubbs' nasal performances had begun to rival those of the
tree-lizard; who was himself no mean performer. The boy-leader's brain
was busy turning over their momentous expedition. In a few days now they
would be in the Archipelago and the plunge into the unknown would have
to be taken. As he gazed about him at the sleeping party--Harry and
Billy, light and careless, Lathrop, apparently made of far better metal
than Frank had believed, and at old grizzled Ben Stubbs sleeping, like
most woodsmen, as soundly as an infant, he felt a sensation of heavy
responsibility steal over him.
Was the expedition well advised? It might all end in nothing or even in
disaster. These thoughts flitted through Frank's brain as he lay awake
and pondered the situation. Of one thing he was determined, as soon as
the wireless could be put in operation and a permanent camp established
in the 'glades he would establish communication with the _Tarantula_.
That at least would put them in touch with powerful allies whatever foes
and evil influences they might encounter in the great fastnesses they
were about to penetrate. Satisfied with this last resolve Frank fell
asleep; but his was a troubled slumber. It seemed to him but a few
minutes after he had dropped off that he awakened with a start:
The fire had died low and there was only a dull red glow to indicate
where its cheerful blaze had been. As his eyes opened, however, Frank
had a queer sensation that his awakening had been directly caused by
some outside action that had affected him. In a second he sensed what it
was.
There was a hand poking about under his pillow where he had tucked his
revolver!
At the same instant there came a loud agonized hail from over the
moonlit water where the _Carrier Dove_ swung at anchor.
It was Pork Chops' voice, and Frank sprang to his feet as he heard it,
reckless of injury from the unseen intruder. He need not have been under
any apprehension, however, for whoever the prowler was he had vanished.
At the same moment Pork Chops' yells awakened the others and Ben Stubbs
roared out with stentorian lungs:
"Ahoy, there aboard the sloop--What's up?"
For reply came a wail from Pork Chops, which was stifled as suddenly as
if a hand had been placed on his throat:
"Help! murder! Dey's----"
Then all was silent.
Like a flash the boys and Ben piled into the Squeegee and Ben manned the
oars. As they fairly flew over the water under his powerful strokes a
long, low dark body,--almost reptilian in its swift movement,--glided
from the opposite side of the _Carrier Dove_. At the same instant the
sharp staccato sound of an engine exhaust came to the boys' ears and a
strong odor of gasolene.
"A motor-boat," shouted Frank, as the low body, gathering speed
momentarily, tore off across the moonlit water and vanished in the dark
shadows off the end of the island.