to the bushes.
Returning in a few minutes, he told Tom to remove the game. His tone and
expression satisfied us that pelican would not keep us from starving.
The colonel thought the crane might be better, but a taste satisfied us
that it was no improvement.

Hungry and tired, it was nearly night before we were ready to move; and,
warned by our sanguinary experience of the previous night, we determined
to haul off from the shore as far as possible, and get outside the range
of the mosquitos. It was now necessary to determine upon our future
course. We had abandoned all hope of reaching the Bahamas, and the
nearest foreign shore was that of Cuba, distant across the Gulf Stream
from our present position about two hundred miles, or three or four
days' sail, with the winds we might expect at this season. With the
strictest economy our provisions would not last so long. However, nearly
a month in the swamps and among the keys of Florida, in the month of
June, had prepared us to face almost any risk to escape from those
shores, and it was determined to start in the morning for Cuba. Well out
in the bay we hove to, and passed a fairly comfortable night; next day
early we started for Caesar's Canal, a passage between Elliott's Key and
Key Largo. The channel was crooked and puzzling, leading through a
labyrinth of mangrove islets, around which the current of the Gulf
Stream was running like a sluice; we repeatedly got aground, when we
would jump overboard and push off. So we worked all day before we were
clear of the keys and outside among the reefs, which extend three or
four miles beyond. Waiting again for daylight, we threaded our way
through them, and with a light breeze from the eastward steered south,
thankful to feel again the pulsating motion of the ocean.

Several sail and one steamer were in sight during the day, but all at a
distance. Constant exposure had tanned us the color of mahogany, and our
legs and feet were swollen and blistered from being so much in the salt
water, and the action of the hot sun on them made them excessively
painful. Fortunately, but little exertion was now necessary, and our
only relief was in lying still, with an impromptu awning over us.
General Breckinridge took charge of the water and rum, doling it out at
regular intervals, a tot at a time, determined to make it last as long
as possible.

Toward evening the wind was hardly strong enough to enable us to hold
our own against the stream.