IN THE EVERGLADES.
"Gone!"
"Disappeared!"
The exclamations came from Frank and Professor Scotch.
Barney's chuckle changed to a shiver, and his teeth chattered.
"Th' Ould B'y's in it!" he chatteringly declared.
"The Old Boy must have been in that canoe," agreed the professor.
Frank was puzzled and disappointed. He still refused to believe there
was anything supernatural about the mysterious, white canoe, but he was
forced to acknowledge to himself that the craft had done most amazing
things.
"It simply slipped into some branch waterway while we were not looking,"
he said, speaking calmly, as if it were the most commonplace thing
imaginable.
"Well, it's gone," said Scotch, as if greatly relieved. "Now, let's get
out of this in a great hurry."
"I am for going back to see what has become of the white canoe," said
Frank, with deliberate intent to make his companions squirm.
Barney and the professor raised a perfect howl of protest.
"Never!" shouted Scotch, nearly upsetting the boat in his excitement,
and wildly flourishing his arms in the air.
"Nivver!" squealed the Irish lad. "Oi'll joomp overboard an' swim out av
this before Oi'll go back!"
Frank laughed.
"You are most amusing," he declared. "I suppose I'll have to give in to
you, as you are two to one."
"Come on," fluttered the professor; "let's be moving."
So Frank put down the rifle, and picked up his paddle, and they resumed
their effort to get out of the swamp before nightfall.
But the afternoon was well advanced, and night was much nearer than they
had thought, as they were soon to discover.
At last, Barney cried:
"Oi see loight enough ahead! We must be near out av th' woods."
Frank said nothing. For a long time he had been certain they were on the
wrong course, but he hoped it would bring them out somewhere. He had
noted the light that indicated they were soon to reach the termination
of the cypress swamp, but he held his enthusiasm in check till he could
be sure they had come out somewhere near where they had entered the
dismal region.
Professor Scotch grew enthusiastic immediately.
"Ha!" he cried, punching Frank in the back. "What do you think now,
young man? Do you mean to say that we don't know our business? What if
we had accepted your way of getting out of the swamp! We'd been in there
now, sir."
"Don't crow till you're out of the woods," advised Frank.
"Begobs! Oi belave he'd be plazed av we didn't get out at all, at all!"
exclaimed Barney, somewhat touched.
In a short time they came to the termination of the cypress woods, but,
to the surprise of Barney and the professor, the swamp, overgrown with
tall rushes and reed-grass, continued, with the water course winding
away through it.
"Pwhat th' ould boy does this mane?" cried the Irish lad.
"It means," said Frank, coolly, "that we have reached the Everglades."
"Th' Ivirglades? Well, pwhat do we want iv thim, Oi dunno?"
"They are one of the sights of Florida, Barney."
"It's soights enough I've seen alreddy. Oi'd loike ter git out av this."
"I knew you wouldn't get out this way, for we have not passed the
rookeries of the herons, as you must remember."
"That's true," sighed the professor, dejectedly. "I hadn't thought of
that. What can we do, boys?"
"Turn about, and retrace our steps," said Frank.
But Barney and the professor raised a vigorous protest.
"Nivver a bit will yez get me inther thot swamp again th' doay!" shouted
the Irish lad, in a most decisive manner.
"If we go back, we'll not be able to get out before darkness comes on,
and we'll have to spend the night in the swamp," said Scotch, excitedly.
"I can't do that."
"Well, what do you propose to do?" asked Frank, quietly. "I don't seem
to have anything to say in this matter. You are running it to suit
yourselves."
They were undecided, but one thing was certain; they would not go back
into the swamp. The white canoe was there, and the professor and the
Irish lad did not care to see that again.
"Whoy not go on, Frankie?" asked Barney. "We're out av th' woods, an',
by follyin' this strame, we ought to get out av th' Iverglades."
"What do you say, professor?" asked Frank, who was rather enjoying the
adventure, although he did not fancy the idea of spending a night on the
marsh.
"Go on--by all means, go on!" roared the little man.
"Go on, it is, then. We'll proceed to explore the Everglades in company
with Professor Scotch, the noted scientist and daring adventurer. Go
ahead!"
So they pushed onward into the Everglades, while the sun sank lower and
lower, finally dropping beneath the horizon.
Night was coming on, and they were in the heart of the Florida
Everglades!
The situation was far from pleasant.
Barney and the professor fell to growling at each other, and they kept
it up while Frank smiled and remained silent.
At length, Scotch took in his paddle in disgust, groaning:
"We're lost!"
"I am inclined to think so myself," admitted Frank, cheerfully.
"Well, who's to blame, Oi'd loike to know?" cried the Irish lad.
"You are!" roared the professor, like a wounded lion.
"G'wan wid yez!" exploded Barney. "It's yersilf thot is to blame!
Frankie wanted to go the other woay, but ye said no."
"Me! me! me!" howled the professor. "Did I? You were the one! You
insisted that this was the proper course to pursue! You are to blame for
it all!"
"Profissor, ye're a little oulder thin Oi be, but av ye wur nigh me age,
Oi'd inform ye thot ye didn't know how to spake th' truth."
"Do you mean to call me a liar, you impudent young rascal?"
"Not now, profissor; but I would av ye wur younger."
"It's all the same! It's an insult, sir!"
"Well, pwhat are yez goin' to do about it?"
"I'll make you swallow the words, you scoundrel!"
"Well, thot would be more av a male thin the rist av ye are loikely to
get th' noight, so it is!"
"Come, come," laughed Frank; "this is no time nor place to quarrel."
"You're right, Frank; but this ungrateful young villain makes me very
tired!"
"Careful, professor--slang."
"Excuse me, but you know human beings are influenced by their
surroundings and associates. If I have----"
"Professor!" cried Frank, reproachfully. "You would not accuse me of
having taught you to use slang?"
"Ah--ha--ahem! No, no--that is, you see--er--well, er, that Dutch boy
was always saying something slangy."
"Hans?"
"Yes."
"Professor! professor! He's not here to defend himself."
"Oh, well! Oh, well! Ha! ha! ha! Quite a joke--quite a little joke, you
know! You always appreciate a joke, Frank. You are full of fun
yourself."
As under the circumstances there was nothing else to do, they finally
paddled slowly forward, looking for a piece of dry land, where they
could stop and camp for the night.
They approached a small cluster of trees, which rose above the rushes,
and it was seen that they seemed to be growing on land that was fairly
high and dry.
"We'll stop there," decided Frank. "It's not likely we'll find another
place like that anywhere in the Everglades."
As they came nearer, they saw the trees seemed to be growing on an
island, for the water course divided and ran on either side of them.
"Just the place for a camp!" cried Frank, delightedly. "This is really a
very interesting and amusing adventure."
"It may be for you," groaned the professor; "but you forget that it is
said to be possible for persons to lose themselves in the Everglades and
never find their way out."
"On the contrary, I remember it quite well. In fact, it is said that,
without a guide, the chances of finding a way out of the Everglades is
small, indeed."
"Well, what do you feel so exuberant about?"
"Why, the possibility that we'll all perish in the Everglades adds zest
to this adventure--makes it really interesting."
"Frank, you're a puzzle to me. You are cautious about running into
danger of any sort, but, once in it, you seem to take a strange and
unaccountable delight in the peril. The greater the danger, the happier
you seem to feel."
"Thot's roight," nodded Barney.
"When I am not in danger, my good judgment tells me to take no chances;
but when I get into it fairly, I know the only thing to be done is to
make the best of it. I delight in adventure--I was born for it!"
A dismal sound came from the professor's throat.
"When your uncle died," said Scotch, "I thought him my friend. Although
we had quarreled, I fancied the hatchet was buried. He made me your
guardian, and I still believed he had died with nothing but friendly
feelings toward me. But he knew you, and now I believe it was an act of
malice toward me when he made me your guardian. And, to add to my
sufferings, he decreed that I should travel with you. Asher Dow
Merriwell deliberately plotted against my life! He knew the sort of a
career you would lead me, and he died chuckling in contemplation of the
misery and suffering you would inflict upon me! That man was a
monster--an inhuman wretch!"
"Look there!" cried Barney, pointing toward the small, timbered island.
"What is it?"
"May Ould Nick floy away wid me av it ain't a house!"