DICK'S HUNT FOR HIS CHUM
An hour's paddling brought Dick and Johnny to the mouth of Turner's
River, up which they headed the canoe. A strong tide setting up the
river nearly doubled their speed.
"Lucky for us that the tide is running our way," said Dick.
"Not much luck about it. Mr. Streeter knew about the tide. That's
why he hurried us off 'fore dinner. Tide'll be other way this
evenin'," replied Johnny.
"Isn't Mr. Streeter a brick?"
"He's all that. Lots o' people 'd have hard times 'f he moved away.
He helps th' Injuns, too, when they're in hard luck."
The first fork in the river was a mile from its mouth and Dick, who
was steering, took the right branch, which led southeast, although
it was much the smaller stream. At the next parting of the stream
one branch led to the east and the other due south. Fortunately
Johnny knew which fork to take, and for a mile or two there was no
trouble. Then the river opened out into a broad shallow bay, filled
with little keys, but nothing to tell Dick which way to steer. He
tried to keep to a southeast course, but ran into shallows which
soon ended in a pocket from which they had to back out. Often they
followed a good channel for a mile, only to have it end in an oyster
reef, and again they had to turn back. A pair of dolphins lifted
their heads above the surface in front of the canoe and with a sniff
of fright started away across the bay like an express train. They
were great creatures, nearly nine feet long, and were followed in
their flight by a baby dolphin less than half their size, which rose
within reach of Dick's paddle, sniffed impertinently in his face and
skittered away after his mother as fast as he could wiggle his funny
flat tail.
"Better foller them porpoises," said Johnny; "they know the
channel."
The dolphin is so uniformly miscalled porpoise, on the west coast
and everywhere else, that the creature will soon come to think that
it really is a porpoise.
Dick followed the dolphins as long as he could see them and was led
into a deep channel which opened out into a series of broad bays
through which they paddled until, among the sunken lands of the
flooded mangrove keys, they came upon a shell mound, the site of an
old abandoned plantation. Dick's aching muscles and Johnny's
clamorous stomach had long been pleading for a rest, and the boys
landed on the mound for a picnic dinner. They opened a box which
Mrs. Streeter had given them as they started from her home, and
found a bountiful lunch of cold venison, baked sweet potatoes,
boiled eggs, bread, butter, orange marmalade and two pineapples.
"Gee!" said Dick. "Are we going to live this way, Johnny?" but
Johnny only grinned.
After the boys had eaten, as only boys can eat, they crawled through
the vines and among the thorns of the overgrown plantation. They
found stalks of sugar-cane and bunches of bananas; wide-spreading
guava and lime trees, loaded with fruit; and tall Avocado pear trees
from which hung purpling globes of that great, creamy, most
delicious fruit, commonly called alligator pear. They filled with
fruit the shirts they wore, till they bulged like St. Nicholas, and
made many trips between the trees and their canoe. As Dick was
standing beside a lime tree, he heard a sound near him like the
whirring of a big locust. Dick had never before heard the angry
jarring of the rattles of the great king of snakes, but he didn't
need to be told the meaning of the blood-curdling sound, which
seemed to come from all directions at once. He gazed about him for a
moment, with every muscle tense, until he caught sight of the head
of the reptile waving slowly to and fro above the irregular coils of
his body. The snake seemed to be within striking distance and the
unnerved boy sprang suddenly away from it, landing among the
thorn-bearing branches of a big lime tree. Dick soon recovered his
nerve, and hunting up a big stick, went cautiously in search of the
reptile, which he found still coiled. He broke the creature's back
with his first blow and had struck several more when Johnny came
crawling through the undergrowth, and called out:
"Want to save his skin?"
"Sure," replied Dick, who hadn't thought of it before.
"Then don't smash him any more and I'll show you how to round-skin
him. He's dead enough, now. A feller from New York showed me how. He
skinned 'em for a livin'. Birds, too. Said he'd give me ten dollars
if I'd get him the skin of one of these fork-tailed kites. He wanted
the nest and eggs, too. Say, but he could skin things. Skin a bird
without losin' a feather or gettin' a drop o' blood on it. Said the
best way to skin snakes was 'fore they was dead."
As Johnny began cutting the skin free from the jaws of the reptile,
the long, needle-like fangs dripped yellow venom and Dick, looking
on with a white face, half whispered:
"Suppose you happened to touch those fangs?"
"Ain't a-goin' to touch 'em. Wish I had my pliers here, to pull 'em
out. You oughter save 'em, and the skull, too. The feller I was
tellin' yer about always did."
"I don't want them; makes me sick to look at them," said Dick, who
looked mightily relieved when, the head having been skinned, it was
cut off and thrown into the bay. After that he became interested
and helped Johnny with his work until he held in his hand the
beautiful skin of a diamondback rattlesnake, over six feet long.
In the afternoon the boys entered a big bay that seemed to have no
other outlet. They followed its shore for an hour, exploring every
little bay that looked big enough to hide the smallest creek. They
sounded the depth of the water with their paddles and traced a
little channel to a clump of bushes that overhung the water from the
shore. Johnny pulled the bow of the canoe under the overhanging
branches and found a little creek through which the water was
flowing. They dragged the canoe into the stream and found water deep
enough to float it, but branches and vines obstructed them above,
while logs and snags troubled them below. They used their knives and
the axe more than they did their paddles. At times they lay down in
the canoe and dragged it under branches and at others got overboard,
and standing in water and mud, lifted it over logs. They were in the
deep gloom of a jungle from which the thick growth above shut out
nearly all the light. As they pushed the canoe forward, unseen vines
seized their throats in a garroting clutch, while solid masses of
spider-webs stuck to their faces and spiders the size of a saucer
ran over them. As Johnny sat in the bow, he collected the most
spiders, since Dick only got those which his companion managed to
dodge, but then Johnny was used to the critters and didn't mind
them, while Dick wasn't, and did.
"What kind of snakes are these swimming round my legs?" asked Dick,
as he stood nearly waist-deep in mud and water and helped lift the
canoe over the biggest log they had struck.
"Speckle-belly moccasins. Mustn't get scared o' them, if you're
goin' to hunt in this country. They ain't likely to bite if yer
don't step on 'em and they won't kill yer, nohow," said Johnny.
The stream was so crooked that the boys had to travel three miles to
gain one and as the troubles in their path seemed to increase they
talked of turning back. But as it was already too late to get out of
the creek before dark, they decided to keep on. As it was, darkness
overtook them while they were yet in the creek. Among their stores
was a lantern, by the light of which they progressed for a little
while, when Johnny proposed making camp.
"But we can't camp here. I'm not a merman, to sleep in the water,"
said Dick.
"You can stretch out in the canoe, if we tie it so it won't tip
over, and I'll build a brush bed good enough for me in ten minutes,"
said Johnny, who took the axe, and cut a short pole, which he rested
on the branches of two trees which grew side by side, so that the
stick lay parallel to a fallen tree trunk which lay about five feet
distant. Then he cut a number of inch saplings into six-foot
lengths, with which he made a platform from the pole to the tree,
and spreading his blanket on this elastic couch announced that his
bed was ready. The boys made a hearty supper from the fragments
that were left from the bountiful provision that Mrs. Streeter had
made for their dinner. Dick's bed in the canoe was probably softer
than Johnny's bed, but he didn't sleep as well. The sides of his
canoe were only five inches above the water which contained the
moccasins, and Dick was sure he could feel their tongues touch his
face as the reptiles searched for a soft place to strike. Then the
snarling from a tree beside him would have been less terrifying if
he had known that instead of being, as he supposed, two wildcats
quarreling for the first bite at him, it was merely a friendly
family discussion between two 'coons.
Things looked more cheerful by daylight, and when Johnny asked
whether they should go on or turn back, Dick replied:
"Go on just as long as the creek runs." But the creek became choked
with brush and turned back on its course, until Johnny said:
"If this crik gits any crookeder it'll fetch us back home."
The boys had to cut away two trees which had fallen across the creek
where the growth was so thick that to cut a path around would have
been more work than to clear away the logs. The trees were large,
their axe a little one, and when the boys came to three trees lying
near together across the stream Dick was so dismayed that he said to
Johnny:
"Let's get back out of this creek. We must be on the wrong track,
Mr. Streeter said Indians and hunters got through this country, but
they never got through this way. What do you think?"
"Hate to go back, but s'pose we've got ter."
Dick's spirits ran low during the return trip through the creek.
They were going in the wrong direction, and each hour was taking him
farther away from where he supposed Ned was. Many times he wished
they had kept on and fought their way through the creek. After
reaching the bay they had left the day before they turned to the
east and north as they followed labyrinthic channels that led around
big and little keys in that part of the ten times Ten Thousand
Islands. The work became confusing, the waterways they followed led
them toward every point in the compass. Sometimes a narrowing stream
made them think they had struck a creek which flowed from the
mainland, but always it opened into some small bay filled with
little keys. Late in the afternoon they found a point of land high
enough for a camp, where they spent the night. After they had eaten
their supper, Dick said:
"Johnny, do you know where we are?"
"Nope; bin goin' 'round so fast I've got dizzy."
"You mean we are lost?"
"Yep; but that's nothin' s' long's we don't stay lost."
"What shall we do, and where shall we go?"
"Go anywhere, only stick to it. Got ter do sumpthin; fresh water's
'most gone. Reckon we'd better go 'bout sou'west. We kin find a
river that'll take us t' the coast, 'nd I kin find a way that'll
take us where you wanter go."
An hour's paddling brought the boys to a bay in which were several
pretty keys, on one of which Dick saw a number of beautiful white
birds.
"What are those?" he asked.
"Egrets," said Johnny. "Want ter shoot 'em?"
"Of course not," replied Dick. "It's against the law, and wicked,
besides. They are the loveliest birds there are and never ought to
be killed just for fun."
"We never kill 'em for fun. Only tourists do that. If you Northern
fellers didn't pay us ter git plumes we'd never kill 'em. D'ye
remember that key over there?"
"No. What about it?"
"See that crik by the palmetter 'nd the big stump? Know it now?"
"What! Isn't that the creek we slept in night before last?"
"Sure! 'nd that's where we wanter go now. Them trees that we stopped
fer was cut by our fellers to keep off the Lossman River plume
hunters. We've got ter cut 'em out, er git 'round 'em if 't takes a
week."
"How about water?"
"Find it t'other side o' the crik. I'd rather go without than go
back t' anybody's house fer it."
"But that old shack where we killed the rattler isn't far off, and I
saw a water-barrel under the caves."
"So did I, 'nd a possum floatin' in it, too. That's why I didn't
fill up there. We'll go slow on what we got 'nd do without a day 'r
two, 'nd we'll find some by then if we stick t' anything."
"We're going to stick to things hereafter, Johnny. It was plumb
foolish to lay down just because a tree got in our way, and it was
my fault, too. It isn't going to happen again, though. Let's get
through that creek to-night, if we have to work by the light of the
lantern."
"Ain't you 'fraid o' the snakes?" said Johnny.
"No. I'm too ashamed of myself for backing out of that creek to be
afraid of anything, except doing it again."
When the boys got back to the trees which lay across the creek, they
took turns with the little axe, which was not much heavier than a
hatchet, until they had cleared an opening for the canoe. They found
other trees in their way, but they kept on. Once they unloaded the
canoe on stumps and logs until they could lift it over a log that
lay so deep in the water that it was hard to cut. Five minutes
later, and within a hundred yards of where they had turned back on
the previous day, the boys reached the end of the creek, where it
opened into a bay which seemed to Dick as beautiful as a dream. It
was dotted with little islands, on some of which were picturesque
groups of palmettos, and on others big trees filled with
white-plumaged birds. Two black dots on the surface of the water a
hundred yards from the canoe moved slowly across its bow. Johnny
stopped paddling and said:
"There's a 'gator. D'ye want him?"
"I don't see him."
"See them two black knobs on the water? The little one's his nose
'nd the big one's his eye. He's turnin' 'round 'nd showin' both
eyes, now. Shoot him in the eye if yer want t' kill him. It'll take
some time t' skin him, though, 'nd mebbe ye're in a hurry to get
along."
"I sure am," replied Dick, and as the paddles dipped together in the
water, the alligator, suspicious of them, slowly sank from their
sight.
At the end of the bay the boys found a deep, narrow river with a
current which Dick supposed was tidal, but which Johnny thought came
from the Glades. Dick tasted the water and was surprised to find
that instead of being salt it had the sweetish taste of merely
brackish water. There were birds of many kinds in the trees on the
banks of the river, and as the boys paddled against the current
Johnny saw a brace of ducks swimming ahead of the canoe. He took in
his paddle and picked up the shotgun, which, with much forethought,
he had placed beside himself in the canoe before starting out. Dick
paddled very slowly and quietly toward the ducks until they were
within easy range. Johnny had been told that if he wanted to be a
real sportsman he must never fire at birds with a shotgun unless
they were flying. So he waited until the ducks rose before firing at
them. The next instant a bird fell heavily on the water a few yards
ahead of the canoe.
"Why, that bird fell out of this tree!" said the astonished Dick. "I
didn't know you fired up in a tree."
"I didn't," replied Johnny. "That was a water-turkey, and he isn't
hurt a bit. They often act so when they're scared. Watch out for him
under the bank."
In a minute or two Dick saw a long, snake-like head and neck thrust
out of the water by the bank. The head twisted about with a quick,
jerky motion till the bird's eyes rested on the canoe, when it
disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.
"What became of the ducks?" said Dick.
"Reckon we'll find one of 'em 'round that p'int. The other got
away." Johnny was right, and the duck was found just around the
point.
At some places the river narrowed into deep creeks and at others
broadened out into wide, shallow bays, where the boys were puzzled
to find the inlet they wanted. It was nearly noon when they struck a
stream of quite a different sort from anything they had previously
seen. Its mouth lay between banks that were high for Florida, and
through it flowed a stream of crystal-clear water, which, to the
great relief and delight of the boys, was fresh as a mountain brook
The bed of the stream looked like sand to Dick, but when he thumped
it with his paddle he found it was coral rock. Suddenly Johnny
called to him:
"Watch out fur the boat," and resting his hands on the sides of the
craft leaped into the water without disturbing in the least the
balance of the canoe.
As Johnny swam rapidly under water, close to the white coral bottom
of the creek, Dick saw that he was chasing a turtle which was
skurrying toward the bank for protection. It got there all right,
but the bank didn't protect it, and soon Johnny came to the surface
hugging to his breast with his left hand a wildly flapping turtle,
while with his right he struck out for the canoe. Getting into the
canoe would have been a ticklish job, so Johnny handed the turtle to
his companion and swam to the bank while Dick followed with the
canoe. By the time Johnny had butchered the turtle, Dick had
constructed a very creditable camp-fire under a palmetto, in the
shade of which the boys rested while they waited for the turtle stew
to be ready for them. Their breakfast had been a cold one,
consisting entirely of fruit, and they had decided that for dinner
they would begin with turtle stew and end with broiled duck. When
the stew had been finished, Johnny inquired:
"Want that duck cooked now?"
"No, I don't. If I ate another mouthful I'd bust. Let's have the
duck next week."
Yet each of the boys managed to eat about a hatful of wild grapes,
which they found growing a short distance from their camp-fire.
Just as the boys were starting out again, Dick saw a turtle, and,
laying down his paddle, said:
"Johnny, if you can catch turtles, I can. See me go for that one."
"Hold on," shouted Johnny, as Dick was about to jump overboard.
"That's an alligator turtle. Bites worse'n a bulldog, and ain't good
fur much t' eat, nohow."
As they kept on up the creek, its banks came nearer together, trees
were more numerous, and the bushes thicker. Soon these began to
close overhead, while the stream itself broke up into several
smaller ones. As these twisted about, forming a labyrinth of little
channels bounded by hundreds of tiny keys, all cohered by an
interlaced canopy of leaves and branches, Dick wondered if ever they
could find their way out. But he had resolved that morning that
never again would he turn back in his exploring so long as it was
possible to go on. The little streams continued to become smaller
and the turns shorter, until to get around the bends the axe was in
constant use to clear a path, while the boys waded and often dragged
or carried the canoe. It was wearing work, and they frequently sat
down to rest. On one of these occasions Johnny inquired:
"How long you want ter keep this up? This ain't the right creek,
not the one Mr. Streeter told about."
"I know that. The creek he spoke of must be away south of this, but
this will probably take us to the Everglades, or near them. So we
had better keep on till the brook gives out and then travel to the
east, toting the canoe till we get to the Glades. We may be away
north of Osceola's camp, but there will likely be a trail that will
help us to find it, and anyhow we will be near the line that Mr.
Streeter thinks Ned and the Indian will follow. Don't you like the
plan?"
"Me? Sure! I don't want any better fun than t' keep on t' the
Atlantic Ocean, only 'fraid it'd be too hard fer you."
Night found the toys in a narrow stream, scarcely more than the
width of the canoe, with bushes around them so thick that they found
it hard to clear a place big enough to sleep on. They were tired
enough to sleep soundly, in spite of the occasional cries of the
birds and beasts of the forest.
They made an early start in the morning, and, although the creek was
crooked and they had to cut away many small trees, they were
encouraged to find the bushes becoming less abundant as the water
grew more shallow, and by dark they were on the border of an open
prairie, where they made camp for the night.