suckling pig, but it was
doubly good to the poor half-famished boy. He stowed away the remains of
his feast in his coat pockets to be eaten on his way back to the root
fortress, resolving to kill some other game on the journey, for the use
of the little garrison there. He was now, as he knew, not more than ten
or twelve miles from his destination, but it was as yet impossible for
him to travel. The swamp was full of cypresses, and it is a peculiar
habit of these trees to turn their roots straight upward for any
distance, from an inch to many feet, and then to bring them straight
down again, making what are called cypress knees. These knees are very
sharp on top, and sometimes stand not more than a foot apart. Being of
all heights, many of them, as Sam knew, were under water now, and these
made travelling impossible, even if there had been no quagmires to fall
into, as there were. After studying the situation, Sam determined to
remain where he was until the water should subside, and then to travel
by daylight, at least until he should be out of the swamp and upon high
ground again. The waters of the creek subsided much more slowly than
they had risen, and Sam remained at the Sycamore Camp, as he called the
place, for four days and nights before he thought travelling again
practicable.

He then resumed his march, beset by many difficulties. The ground was
muddy everywhere, and impassably so in some places. There were many
ponds and pools left in the swamp, and these had to be avoided, so that
night had already come before he found himself fairly out of the swamp
and on the bank of the river, about two miles below the root fortress.
He now began to feel all sorts of apprehensions. He had been away
eleven days, and he could not help imagining a variety of terrible
things which might have happened to his little band during his absence.
Presently he saw a great light up the river, and at once the thought
flashed into his mind that the Indians had discovered and butchered the
boys and Judie, and were now burning the drift pile.

"I'll hurry on," he said to himself, "and if the Indians are really
there, it's time for me to take part in this war. I can keep in the
timber and pick off half a dozen of them there in the fire light. Then
if they scalp me, I don't care. I'll at least make them suffer for what
they've done."

A fierce storm was just breaking,--a storm of the violent and heroic
type seen only in tropical and sub-tro