ng sun, where
gold was like the sands on the shores of the great salt waters, and
whence they had reached his tribe through the hands of many traders.[1]

At sunrise on the following morning the journey towards the land of the
Alachuas was resumed, and Rene occupied with Nethla a canoe that was
paddled by Has-se and Yah-chi-la-ne (the Eagle), Nethla's young warrior
husband. The stream down which they floated soon left the great swamp
and widened into a broad river, the high banks of which were covered
with the most luxuriant vegetation and beautiful flowers. The Indians
called it Withlacoochee, but the Spaniards afterwards changed its name
to San Juanita (pronounced San Wawneeta), or Little St. John, from
which in these days it has come to be known as the Suwanee.

The river contained great numbers of alligators, of which, when they
went into camp, the Indians killed many, for the sake of the valuable
oil that was to be extracted from the fat embedded in the joints of
their tails.

On the second day after Rene and Has-se joined them the tribe reached
the land of the Alachuas, a people speaking the same language with
themselves, and bound to them by closest ties of friendship. It was a
land of broad savannas, studded with groves of magnolia and oak trees,
and abounding in springs of the purest water. The clear streams
running from these great springs teemed with the finest fish, and the
country watered by them was overrun with game of every variety. It was
indeed a land of plenty, and from its peace-loving and hospitable
dwellers the visitors from the far East received a warm welcome.

On the very day of their arrival they selected the site for the camp,
which they expected to occupy for some months. It was in the midst of
a grand oak grove, surrounding a crystal spring; and before sunset the
slightly built lodges had sprung up as though by magic among its trees,
the sparks from the camp-fires gleamed like myriads of fire-flies among
the moss-hung branches, and the tribe was at home.

Rene de Veaux, as became his rank, was invited to occupy the lodge of
Micco the chief, in which he shared the bear-skin couch of his friend
the chief's son and Bow-bearer. Here, during the week that his wound
took to heal completely, he rested as happily as though the world
contained no cares or anxieties. He spent most of this time in adding
to his knowledge of the Indian language, with which, with Has-se and
the beautiful Net