e him as it looked before we
caught him."

"Guess you mean before he caught us."

"Shouldn't wonder if I did. Couldn't we build a cage of poles, with
some of these big vines woven in basket fashion?"

"That would be all right. We could watch him day times and you could
put him back in the box every night for safe keeping. I don't think
he's an otter at all. He just fits the definition of a white
elephant."

On the day after his little difference of opinion with the otter,
Ned's left hand and wrist were so sore and stiff that he could
neither hold his paddle nor his gun. Dick, too, was partially
disabled by the soreness of his arms, but he managed to get about in
the canoe and shoot ducks enough for their meals. They could not
induce the otter to eat anything, although it seemed much less
fearful of them. The leg which had been in the trap was broken and
appeared to trouble the animal, but they could do nothing to help
it. Dick did propose to take the otter out of the cage and offered
to set its leg if Ned would hold the creature. On the second day
their wounds continued to be so troublesome that the boys stayed in
their hospital camp. As they sat that afternoon in the shade of a
lime tree, drinking limeade, Dick, the philosopher, began to
question Ned.

"Don't you pity all these folks about here, Ned? Crackers,
alligators, Indians, the whole ignorant lot of 'em. If they had got
hurt as we did, they would have gone right on about their business.
They'd never have found out that they were probably suffering from
appendicitis and microbes and ought to go to a hospital and be
carved up."

At this moment the bow of an Indian canoe glided silently into the
tiny cove in front of the camp. The boys recognized one of the two
bronzed, bare-legged Seminoles that stood so erect in the canoe, as
from Osceola's camp. His response to Ned's greeting was a question.

"_Whyome_ (whiskey), got him? Want him, _ojus_ (very much)."

Ned told them he had no _whyome_, but brought out coffee and sugar
and invited them to make a brew for themselves. He also produced
grits and venison. The Indians sat down to a feast which lasted as
long as any food remained in sight. One of the Indians looked
curiously at Ned's bandages and smiled a little as he pointed to
the box that held the pet otter. Ned nodded and asked the Indian, by
signs, if he had ever been bitten by one of the creatures. The
Indian held out his hand and showed the scar of