GOOD-BYE TO THE _TRANSIT_
That night the Norther broke, and by the following morning the weather
was of that absolutely perfect character that makes the winter the most
delightful season of the year in southern Florida. The sun shone with
unclouded splendor, fish leaped from the clear waters, gay-plumaged
birds flitted among the mangroves, and made the air vocal with their
happy songs. All nature was full of life and rejoicing.
[Illustration: REPAIRING THE "PUNKIN SEED".]
Although Lieutenant Carey was much disturbed by learning that false
reports had been spread among the Indians concerning the nature of
his expedition, and realized that its difficulties would be greatly
increased thereby, he had no thought of abandoning it. Therefore, by
the earliest daylight, preparations were made for repairing the damaged
cruisers, and putting them in condition for a new start. The stanch
little _Psyche_ had been brought down the beach the day before. There
was a good supply of tools aboard the schooner, and Sumner, who had
fully recovered his strength, was found to be so expert a shipwright
that he was intrusted with planning and directing the repairs to the
cruisers, while the Lieutenant, with several men, went to examine into
the condition of the wrecked sloop, and see what could be done with her.
They found her injuries so much less than was expected, that within
three days she had been hauled off the reef and rendered sufficiently
seaworthy for the voyage back to Key West.
In this time also Sumner finished his job on the cruisers, and they
were again in thorough order for the work required of them.
Rust Norris was able to render them one service, by guiding them to
some cisterns from which they obtained the supply of fresh-water,
without which they would not have dared proceed on their cruise. His
companion, who was a good hunter and well acquainted with the game
resorts of that vicinity, provided them with plenty of fresh venison.
He also won Worth's regard by giving him a turkey call, or whistle,
made from one of the wing-bones of a wild turkey, and taking him
off before daylight one morning on a turkey hunt. From this the boy
returned fully as proud as the fine gobbler he had shot had been a
short time before. So elated was he by this success that he declared
himself to be the hunter of the expedition from that time forth, and
promised to provide it with all necessary meat.
By the close of the third day after the storm everything was in
readiness for a new start. That evening was spent in writing letters to
be sent back by the sloop, and daylight of the following morning saw
both vessels standing out of the lagoon. Once outside, the sloop bore
away to the westward, its occupants waving their hats and shouting good
wishes to those whom but a few days before they had tried their best to
injure.
"I declare!" said Sumner to Worth, "I don't know of anything that makes
a fellow feel better than to succeed in turning an enemy into a friend.
Now I shall always like Rust Norris, and he will always like me, while
if no difficulty had arisen between us we might have been on speaking
terms all our lives without caring particularly for each other."
"But, Sumner!" exclaimed Worth, in a grieved tone, "aren't you ever
going to care particularly for me, because we have never been enemies?"
"Care for you, old man! After all we have gone through with together,
and after all the anxiety we have had on account of each other? Why,
Worth, if I cared any more for you than I do, I'd pack you up in
cotton and send you home by express, for fear you might get hurt."
"Then please don't," laughed the boy, "for I want to see the
Everglades, and do some more hunting before I am sent home."
Although Worth was so impatient to see the 'Glades, and though the
_Transit_ was headed directly for them, he was obliged to content
himself with seeing other things for some days to come. For a whole
week the little schooner threaded her way through the most bewildering
maze of islands, reefs, and channels known to this continent. There
were thousands of keys of all sizes and shapes, and all covered with
the mangroves that had built them. As for the oyster-bars, sand-bars,
and reefs, they were so numerous that, in finding her way through them,
the _Transit_ was headed to every point, half-point, and quarter-point
of the compass during each hour of her sailing time. The number of
times that she ran aground were innumerable, as were those that she was
compelled to turn back from some blind channel and seek a new one.
Through all this bewildering maze of keys and channels great tide
rivers of crystal water continually ebbed and flowed. In them uncounted
millions of fish, from huge silvery tarpon, vampire-like devil-fish,
and ravenous sharks, down to tiny fellows, striped, spotted, or
mottled with every hue of the rainbow, rushed and sported, chased and
being chased, devouring and being devoured, but always affording a
fascinating kaleidoscope of darting forms and flashing colors.
Nor was the bird-life of these Ten Thousand Islands less interesting.
It seemed as though the numbers of the great Wader and Soarer
families collected here were almost as many as the fish on which they
feasted. Whole regiments of stately flamingoes, clad in their pink
hunting-coats, stood solemnly on the mud-flats. Squadrons of snow-white
pelicans sailed in company with fleets of their more soberly plumaged
comrades. Great snowy herons, little white herons, great blue herons,
little blue herons, green herons, and yellow-legged herons mingled
with cranes and curlews on the oyster-bars. Ducks of infinite variety,
together with multitudes of coots and cormorants, floated serenely
on the placid waters. Overhead, clouds of snowy ibises, outlined in
pink by edgings of roseate spoon-bills, rose and fell and glinted in
the bright sunlight. Gannets, gulls, and ospreys hovered above the
fishing-grounds. Bald-headed eagles watched them from the tops of tall
mangroves, ready at a moment's notice to pounce down and rob them of
their prey. Far overhead, black specks against the brilliant blue of
the sky, sailed, on motionless pinions, stately men-of-war hawks or
frigate-birds--most graceful of all the soarers. All these, and many
more, the mere naming of which would fill a chapter, flocked to these
teeming fishing-grounds, and afforded a never-ending source of wonder
and amusement to our young canoemates and their companions.
Still, with all these, besides the unending difficulties of the
navigation to occupy their minds, the end of a week found the boys
heartily tired of mangrove keys and blind channels, and anxious for a
change of scene. It was, therefore, with a feeling of decided relief
that a dark, unbroken line, stretching north and south as far as the
eye could reach, was finally sighted and pronounced to be the pine
woods of the main-land. Approaching it with infinite difficulty on
account of the rapidly shoaling water, they at length discovered a
large stream, the water of which was brackish. It was evidently one of
the numerous waterways draining the vast reservoirs of the 'Glades into
the sea. Here the exploring party was to leave the _Transit_ and take
to the smaller craft, in which they proposed to penetrate the interior.
Again an evening was devoted to writing letters to be sent back by the
schooner, and again all hands were ordered to turn out by daylight.
Lieutenant Carey had decided to send one of the cruisers back, and to
take but one besides the three canoes into the 'Glades. The recent
difficulties of navigation had shown him that a full crew would be
needed to carry the schooner back to deep water, and he also imagined
that the fewer boats the explorers had to force through the 'Glades the
easier they would get along. The Indians, too, would be less suspicious
of a small party than of a large one. Thus he decided to limit the
party to himself and the two boys in the canoes, with Quorum and one
other man in the cruiser, or five in all.
With a breakfast by lamplight, and the final preparations hurried as
much as possible, the sun was just rising when the little fleet shoved
off from the _Transit_, and with flashing paddles entered the mouth of
the dark-looking river, the waters of which, in all probability, the
keels of white men's boats were now to furrow for the first time.
"Good-bye, Mr. Sloe! You want to hurry round to Cape Florida, or we'll
be there first!"
"Good-bye, Quorum! Look out for that woolly scalp of yours!" came from
the schooner.
"Good-bye! Good-luck! Good-bye!" and then the canoes rounded a wooded
point, and were lost to sight of those who watched their first plunge
into the trackless wilderness.