nt colours and graceful
shapes, from which Lejoillie selected so many that we could scarcely
carry them back to the boat.

After touching at Key West, where the United States Government has a
naval station, and in the neighbourhood of which a town of some size has
sprung up, we steered due north, intending to proceed to Cedar Keys,
where the _Great Alexander_ was to finish her voyage. The first place
at which we were to touch was called Punta Rassa, at the mouth of the
river Caloosahatchee. High up the river was Fort Myers, the most
westerly of the line of forts extending across the country to keep in
check the Everglade Indians.

Lejoillie proposed that we should try to make our way by these forts to
the head-waters of the Saint John River, by descending which we might
return to Castle Kearney. Our skipper advised us, however, not to make
the attempt. He warned us that the difficulties in the way--cedar
swamps, rivers, lakes, marshes, wild beasts, and savage Indians--would
prove insuperable, and that we should probably never again be heard of.

"Consider, my friends, how much we should add to our stock of scientific
knowledge," said Lejoillie, who was not to be turned from his object.

Carlos and I were ready to accompany him; but Tim, who had listened
attentively, took an opportunity of speaking to me on the subject,
saying--

"It's all very fine, Mr. Maurice, for Mr. Jolly to wish to know about
the birds an' bastes of the country; but what would be the good to him
or any one else, if he got knocked on the head and scalped?--an' from
the capt'n's account that seems to me mighty likely to happen. I'd
stick to the _Great Alexander_, an' return home in her. The longest way
round may prove the shortest way back. Or I'd wait at Cedar Keys until
we can find a party of soldiers crossing the country to Saint John
River; for, depend on it, the Indians are in a bad temper, an' it
wouldn't be safe to cross the country with a small party."

I was much inclined to agree with Tim, and told him I would have a talk
with my cousin about the matter.

The river with the long name is the southernmost of three streams which
fall into a deep bay full of islets, called Charlotte Harbour. We had
nearly reached a mangrove island, called Sanibel, when a squall from the
eastward struck the schooner and almost laid her over on her beam-ends.
The after-sails were quickly lowered, and as she righted away she flew
before the gale, l