e third morning broke they were within a mile or
two of Fort Glass. Sam thought at first of pushing on at once to the
fort, but, seeing "Indian sign" in the shape of some smouldering fires
near a spring, he abandoned the undertaking until night should come
again, and hid his little company in the woods. Something to eat was the
one immediate necessity. They were all nearly famished, and neither corn
nor sweet potatoes were to be found anywhere in the vicinity. Sam
directed the boys to bring some rushes from the creek bottoms, and
peeling these, he and his companions ate the pith, which is slightly
succulent and in a small degree nourishing. Sam had learned this fact by
accident while out hunting one day, and Sam took care never to forget
anything which might be useful. Towards night, when the rushes failed to
satisfy their hunger, Sam was puzzling himself over the problem of
getting food, when Tom asked him if he knew the name of a singular tree
he had seen while out after rushes.

"It has the biggest leaves I ever saw," he said, "and they all grow
right out of its top. Some of 'em are six feet long, and they've got
folds in 'em. There ain't any limbs to the tree at all."

"Where did you see that?" asked Sam eagerly.

"Right over there, about a hundred yards."

"Good! It's palmetto. I didn't know there was one this far from the sea
though. Here, take my big knife and you and Joe go and cut out as much
as you can of the soft part just where the leaves come out. It's what
they call palmetto cabbage, and it's very good to eat too, I can tell
you."

The boys, after receiving minute instructions, went to the palmetto-tree
and brought away several pounds of the terminal bud. On this the little
company made a hearty meal, finding the "cabbage," as it is called, a
well-flavored, juicy and tender kind of white vegetable substance, very
nourishing and as palatable as cocoanut, which it closely resembles in
flavor. Storing what was left in their pockets, they began to prepare
for their night's journey to the fort, which they hoped to reach within
an hour or two. They were just on the point of starting when a party of
Indians, under Weatherford, the great half-breed chief, who was the life
and soul of the war, rode across a neighboring field, and settled
themselves for supper within a dozen yards of Sam's camp. The sky was
overcast with clouds, and so night fell even more quickly than it
usually does in Southern latitudes, whe