ey rode on, Keela
on Themar's horse. Her own obediently followed.

An hour later they came to an aquatic jungle haunted by noisome
reptiles. Here fallen trees and a matted underbrush of poisonous vines
lay submerged in dank black water. Cypress gloomed in forbidding
shadow above the stagnant water; the swamp itself was rife with
horrible quacks and croaks and off somewhere the distant bellow of an
alligator.

So dense and dark this terrible haunt of snake and bird and brilliant
lizard that Carl shuddered, but Keela, dismounting, tethered her horses
to the nearest tree and struck off boldly across a narrow trail of dry
land above the level of the water. Carl followed. Presently the
matted jungle thinned and they came to a rude foot-bridge made of
twisted roots. It led to the first of a series of fertile islands
which threaded the terrible swamp with a riot of color. Here royal
poinciana flared gorgeously beside the orange-colored blossoms of wild
cassava, and hordes of birds flamed by on brilliant wings.

Through rude avenues of palm and pine and cypress, through groves of
wild orange and banana fringed with mulberry and persimmon trees, over
rustic bridges which led from island to island, they came at last to a
larger hummock and the wild, vine-covered log lodge of Mic-co, the
Indians' white friend.

It was thatched like the Seminole wigwams in palmetto and set in a
cluster of giant trees. Trailing moss and ferns and vines hung from
the boughs, weaving a dense, cool shade about the dwelling. The
exuberant air plants brought memories of Lanier's immortal poem:

"Glooms of the live oaks, beautiful-braided and woven
With intricate shades of the vines that myriad-cloven
Clamber the forks of the multiform boughs,--"

There were brilliant vistas of bloom beyond the shadow. The odor of
orange hung heavily in the still, warm air. A pair of snowy herons
flapped tamely about among the pines.

Utter peace and quiet, alive with the chirp of many birds, brilliant
sunshine and deep, dark shadow! But Carl stared most at the figure
that came to greet them, a tall, broad man of dark complexion and
wonderful, kindly eyes of piercing darkness. His hair and beard were
snow-white and reached nearly to his waist, his attire buckskin, laced
at the seams. But his slender, sensitive hands caught and held
attention.

"Mic-co," said Keela gravely, "he is very tired in his head. Philip
would have him rest."