uffered greatly for want of water; our usual resource was to dig for
it, but often it was so brackish and warm that when extreme thirst
forced its use the consequences were violent pains and retchings. One
morning we saw a few wigwams ashore, and pulled in at once and landed.
It was a party of Seminoles who had come out of the everglades like the
bears to gather eggs. They received us kindly, and we devoured
ravenously the remnants of their breakfast of fish and _kountee_. Only
the old chief spoke a little English. Not more than two or three hundred
of this once powerful and warlike tribe remain in Florida; they occupy
some islands in this endless swamp to the southward of Lake Okeechobee.
They have but little intercourse with the whites, and come out on the
coast only at certain seasons to fish. We were very anxious to obtain
some provisions from them, but excepting kountee they had nothing to
spare. This is an esculent resembling arrowroot, which they dig,
pulverize, and use as flour. Cooked in the ashes, it makes a palatable
but tough cake, which we enjoyed after our long abstinence from bread.
The old chief took advantage of our eagerness for supplies, and
determined to replenish his powder-horn. Nothing else would do; not even
an old coat, or fish-hooks, or a cavalry saber would tempt him. Powder
only he would have for their long, heavy small-bore rifles with
flintlocks, such as Davy Crockett used. We reluctantly divided with him
our very scant supply in exchange for some of their flour. We parted
good friends, after smoking the pipe of peace.

[Illustration: EXCHANGING THE BOAT FOR THE SLOOP.]

On the 7th, off New River Inlet, we discovered a small sail standing to
the northward. The breeze was very light, so we downed our sail, got out
our oars, and gave chase. The stranger stood out to seaward, and
endeavored to escape; but slowly we overhauled her, and finally a shot
caused her mainsail to drop. As we pulled alongside I saw from the dress
of the crew of three that they were man-of-war's men, and divined that
they were deserters. They were thoroughly frightened at first, for our
appearance was not calculated to impress them favorably. To our
questions they returned evasive answers or were silent, and finally
asked by what authority we had overhauled them. We told them that the
war was not over so far as we were concerned; that they were our
prisoners, and their boat our prize; that they were both deserters and