AMONG THE SEMINOLES
The young explorers had found an uncharted route from the Bay of
Florida to the Everglades and the work before them was now easy.
The water was deeper than was needed to float their canoe, and the
grass too light to trouble them. They sheered off and avoided all
bands of saw-grass unless they found trails across them. The Glades
were dotted with little keys of bay, myrtle and cocoa plum. These
were small and usually submerged. A few larger keys were covered
with heavier timber, pine, oak, mastic, palmetto and other woods. In
these, deer were plentiful and bear and panther sometimes found.
The boys went to several keys before they found one with dry land
enough for a camp. It had been used for camping by the Seminoles for
many years and was the only bit of land above the surface of the
water for miles. On it were piles of turtle shells, while scattered
about were bones of deer and alligator and skulls of bear and
smaller animals. A cultivated papaw which some Indian had planted
within a few years, stood twelve feet high and was filled with
great melon-like papaws, each one of which weighed from five to ten
pounds.
"Better than cantaloupe," said Dick as he finished half of a big one
as a preliminary to his supper, "but what's this you are giving us
for coffee?"
"Coffee's out," replied Ned. "The fellows that took the rifle
cleaned out most of the coffee."
"Why didn't you make 'em give it back when you had 'em on the run?"
"Reckon I was glad to get out of it as easy as I did. Then I had
said enough unkind things to them for one time."
"Sorry you think you were unkind. Your feelings must be a good deal
torn up. But you haven't told me what I'm drinking. Tastes something
like the sassafras tea I used to get dosed with when I was a kid.
It's pretty good, though."
"It's something like it. It's made from the leaves of the sweet bay
tree, which grows on all these islands and all over this country.
Sweet-bay tea is all you're going to get to drink, excepting water,
from now on."
"What is that fruit that looks like a big stubby pear on that
curious-looking tree there?" inquired Dick.
"Custard apple."
"Does it taste like custard?"
"Yes, if the custard has been mixed with turpentine."
The explorers made little progress the following day. Bunches of
thick saw-grass turned them back. They found shallow water where for
long distances they had to paddle slowly to avoid little pillars of
coral rock that came close to the surface and endangered their
fragile canoe. Most of the afternoon was vainly spent in searching
for a camping site. They found a key where the water was shoal and
made a bed of poles and branches. Both of them chose to sleep on the
bed they had made. Whether this was simply politeness or because
both were afraid of rolling out of the canoe nobody else knows. The
poles and branches sagged under their weight until both were wet.
Then such a deluge of rain as is seldom seen outside of the tropics
fell on them. They got out in the dark and tied their canvas sheet
over the canoe. They didn't need it for themselves. They were
already as wet as they could be.
In the morning they dried themselves--so Dick said--by rolling into
the water and sloshing around. They made a cold lunch of smoked
bear, cold hominy, or grits as it is called in Florida, and water,
choosing to wait for breakfast until they should find land enough
for a fire. During the day they saw high trees to the eastward and
made for them. Here they found a Seminole camp of several families.
As they landed from their canoe they saw several pickaninnies, for
Seminole children are not called papooses like children in other
tribes of Indians, watching them from behind trees and boats. The
squaws whom they met were equally shy and kept their faces hidden.
Ned spoke to several of them, but they gave no sign that they even
heard him.
"They don't like your looks," said Dick. "Let me speak to the next
one."
The next one was a young girl and Dick was very confident, as he
addressed her, with his very best smile. But he was turned down as
badly as his chum, for the girl didn't see him at all. At the camp
they found one old Indian and several squaws. The Indian welcomed
them with a grunt and the question,
"_Whyome_ (whiskey), you got um?"
"_Whyome holowaugus_ (bad), no got um," replied Ned. The Indian
grunted again and conversation ceased. Dick was sitting on the edge
of the table which serves also as floor in a Seminole camp, when he
heard a low growl just over his head. He looked up and saw, crouched
on a shelf within four feet of him, a full-grown wild-cat, or bay
lynx, which seemed disposed to spring at him. Dick tried to keep
from showing how much he was scared, but he asked Ned to find out if
the wild-cat would bite. To Ned's question, the Indian nodded
emphatically and replied,
"Um, um, _unca, ojus_ (yes, heap)." Dick moved away, but the
creature fascinated him and he came back. Dick never could resist
the temptation to play with wild animals and he put out his hand to
the wild-cat, saying:
"If that Injun can tame that beast, I can."
"That Injun understands you, just as well as I do. He only pretends
he doesn't so as to make us try to talk his confounded lingo."
A half smile stole over the stolid face of the Indian, either on
account of what Ned was saying or because Dick's hand was slowly
approaching the wild-cat. The paw of the lynx flashed out and back
so quickly that it could scarcely be seen, but the blood began to
flow from several deep, parallel cuts on the back of the boy's hand.
Dick still held out his hand, scarcely moving a muscle, while Ned
called out:
"Come away, Dick, that beast'll scratch out your eyes."
"Wonder what it would do if I cuffed it?"
The Indian appeared to understand this, for he spoke sharply to the
lynx, and going up to it patted its head and stroked its body
lightly. He then motioned to Dick to do the same. To Dick's great
delight the wild-cat not only allowed him to stroke it, but even
purred as well as a wild-cat can.
"Ned, I've got to have that cat. I've given up all my other pets
because you didn't want them in the canoe, or there wasn't room. Now
Tom will take care of himself and won't need any toting. Shouldn't
wonder if he'd feed himself, too."
"That's what I'm most afraid of.
"Don't worry. I won't let him eat you. Ask old Stick-in-the-mud
there what he wants for his beastie."
Ned talked with the Indian and reported to Dick.
"He says he will sell for one otter skin like that one in the
canoe."
"How could he see that skin from here? Tell him it's a whack. Only
he must make Tom go with me if there is any trouble about it."
"He says wild-cat go with you, you brave boy, not afraid of him.
Says somebody get scared, he eat 'em up."
"Ned, you old hypocrite, you made that up."
"Honest Injun, I didn't. I told it straight, just as I got it. That
Indian likes you."
"Why don't he talk white man lingo to me, then, instead of his old
gibberish that he can't possibly understand himself? Ask the old
snoozer what's cooking in that pot. It smells bully and I'm hungry."
Ned turned to the Indian and pointing to the steaming pot, said:
"_Nar-kee?_ (What is it?)"
"_Lock-a-wa._ (Turtle.)"
"_Esoka bonus che._ (I want some.)"
"_Humbuggus cha._ (Come eat.)"
The boys took turns with the big, wooden, family spoon and found the
mess very good. There was another kettle of which the Indians ate
freely into which Dick dipped his spoon. He made a wry face as he
swallowed the portion he had scooped up and said to Ned:
"Tell your copper-faced friend that he had better give that swill
back to the pigs he stole it from."
"Be careful, Dick, he understands."
"Then let him say so in a decent language and I'll apologize for
hurting his feelings, but I won't say that stuff is fit to eat, not
if I am tied to the stake."
Dick spent one afternoon getting acquainted with the Indian
children, in which he succeeded so well that when he came back to
the camp streaming with water, the whole bunch, although they were
quite as well soaked as he, followed him screaming with laughter,
quite like white children.
"What is the trouble?" inquired Ned as soon as the youngsters gave
him a chance to be heard.
"Only the usual thing. These Indians don't know how to manage their
roly-poly canoes and I'm afraid I'll be drowned before I get 'em
taught."
Dick had found a big family canoe that looked as if it couldn't
capsize and had made signs to an Indian boy to go out in it with
him. Before they were fairly afloat all the pickaninnies belonging
to the camp had piled into the craft. From the smallest squab to the
biggest boy, the Indian children danced about in the canoe without
disturbing its equilibrium. The boy in the stern, standing on the
extreme point of the craft, set his pole on the coral bottom and
threw his weight back upon it until his whole body stood out almost
parallel with the water behind the canoe. Dick stood on the tiny
deck on the bow of the boat, but with every thrust of his pole the
canoe wabbled till the pickaninnies balanced it. But Dick improved
with practice and as he grew confident, threw his weight on the pole
in true Seminole fashion. He would have pulled through with credit,
but for the slipping of his pole on a point of coral rock, when he
fell heavily in the water, capsizing the craft as he went overboard.
At first the boy was alarmed for the safety of his cargo of
children, but soon saw that they were as much at home in the water
as on land and were quite capable of caring for themselves. After
Ned had heard what had happened he called the attention of the
squaws to the ducking of their babies without causing the faintest
gleam of interest to cross their stolid faces.
After another day of eating with the Seminoles and sleeping on their
tables, Dick announced that Tom and he were tired of Injuns and
wanted to light out. The whole Indian family saw them off, even the
squaws coming half way to the canoe from their camp. Dick carried
Tom on his shoulder and the lynx stepped into the canoe as if it had
always owned it and curled up on the canvas of the tent.
"Where do you want to go, Dick?"
"What's the use of asking me? You have been talking Everglades and
Big Cypress in a steady streak, for two days to that old Injun. You
must have a map of his brain by this time."
"We can go through the Everglades to Lake Okeechobee, out through
the canal and down the Caloosahatchee, but the Everglades will be
much the same as we have seen, only more and worse saw-grass and so
harder work. If we go to the east we will pretty soon come out at
the coast which we want to avoid. I think we had better strike
across to the prairies and the border land between the Everglades
and the Big Cypress Swamp. Bear, deer, panther and wild turkey are
to be found in that country, and we won't have to hurry so much to
get through in the time we talked of for the trip. What do you say?"
"The woods for me, every time. Then I think it would be better for
Tom's health. I am afraid he would get melancholy if we kept him on
the water too much. Let's put in a big day's work and get somewhere.
I can stand sleeping in the water once in a while, but don't like it
as a regular thing."
They put in their big day's work without getting very far. They
struck shoal water in the morning where little pillars of coral,
rising almost to the surface, threatened to tear a hole in their
canoe. When they got overboard and waded, the same sharp points of
coral hurt their feet and bruised their shins. During the afternoon
they held their course, as best they could, for a tall palmetto,
which, lifting its head above a waste of water and grass, gave
promise of land enough for a camp beneath it. They dragged the
canoe through a narrow strand of saw-grass, but were turned westward
by a heavier band of the same obstacle, and finally made their camp
for the night on a bushy little submerged key, where Ned lay on top
of the canoe and was kept from sleeping by the fear of rolling over
into the water, and Dick lay on a bed of brush that soon settled
into the water with him. At first Tom climbed a little tree, but
didn't seem pleased with his quarters. He looked at Dick's bed for a
moment and turned in for the night with Ned in the canoe. Good
progress was made on the following day, for the boys were tired of
trying to sleep on the water and meant to find land enough for a
camp before another night. They found much open water, most of the
grass was light and the few strands of saw-grass they encountered
were easily avoided. They saw few keys and all of those were
submerged. So again when night came there was no dry land for a camp
and the bed of branches was built up in the shallow water. About
midnight Ned, noticing that his companion was restless, said to him:
"Dick, can you sleep any more?"
"Sleep any more?" said the indignant Dick. "I haven't slept any,
yet."
"Then let's get out of this and paddle the rest of the night. It's
full moon, paddling isn't half as hard as trying to sleep on that
bed and we may get somewhere."
"Good thing, and I move that we keep paddling till we get to those
woods you talked about, if it takes a week. Tom votes with me.
Motion carried."
About the middle of the forenoon they saw a clump of palmettos on a
key, for which they headed at once, where they found ground which
had been often camped upon. Dick climbed a tree and could make out a
forest near the horizon, in the west. A few more hours' work would
see them out of the Glades, but they chose to rest for the remainder
of the day.
"There goes your pet. That's the last of him," said Ned, pointing to
the lynx in the top of the tree, which Dick had climbed.
"He'll come back all right. If he doesn't I'll go up and fetch him
by the scruff of his neck."
[Illustration: "THERE GOES YOUR PET. THAT'S THE LAST OF HIM"]
Dick was right, for when the wild-cat saw the stores broken into for
dinner he came down for his portion of meat and then curled up for a
nap on his canvas in the canoe. Tom tolerated Ned, but never
permitted any familiarities from him, while Dick could handle him as
he chose and the lynx only smiled, in his own fashion.
To reach the woods they were aiming for the boys left the Indian
trail they were on and, after forcing their way through a strand of
saw-grass, found themselves on a prairie, bounded on the west by a
heavy growth of cypress, oak and other heavy timber, while the
prairie itself was made beautiful by picturesque little groups of
palmettos which were scattered through it.