es, over Little Fish Crossing, along the old
Government trail, and over the Loxahatchi. Westward no trail lay save
those blind signs of the Seminoles across the wastes of open timber and
endless stretches of lagoon and saw-grass which is called the
Everglades.

On the edge of the road where Hamil sat his horse was an old pump--the
last indication of civilisation. He dismounted and tried it, filling his
cup with clear sparkling water, neither hot nor cold, and walking
through the sand offered it to Shiela Cardross.

"Osceola's font," she nodded, returning from her abstraction; "thank
you, I am thirsty." And she drained the cup at her leisure, pausing at
moments to look into the west as though the wilderness had already laid
its spell upon her.

Then she looked down at Hamil beside her, handing him the cup.

"_In-nah-cahpoor?_" she asked softly; and as he looked up puzzled and
smiling: "I asked you, in Seminole, what is the price I have to pay for
your cup of water?"

"A little love," he said quietly--"a very little, Shiela."

"I see!--like this water, neither warm nor cold: _nac-ey-tai?_--what do
you call it?--oh, yes, sisterly affection." She looked down at him with
a forced smile. "_Uncah_" she said, "which in Seminole means 'yes' to
your demand.... You don't mind if I relapse into the lake dialect
occasionally--do you?--especially when I'm afraid to say it in English."
And, gaining confidence, she smiled at him, the faintest hint of
tenderness in her eyes. "Neither warm nor cold--_Haiee-Kasapi_!--like
this Indian well, Mr. Hamil; but, like it, very faithful--even when in
the arid days to come you turn to drink from sweeter springs."

"Shiela!"

"Oh, no--no!" she breathed, releasing her hands; "you interrupt me; I
was thinking _ist-ahmah-mahhen_--which way we must go. Listen; we leave
the road yonder where Gray's green butterfly net is bobbing above the
dead grass: _in-e-gitskah?_--can't you see it? And there are dad and
Stent riding in line with that outpost pine--_ho-paiee_! Mount, my
cavalier. And"--in a lower voice--"perhaps you also may hear that voice
in the wilderness which cried once to the unwise."

As they rode girth-high through the grass the first enchanting glade
opened before them, flanked by palmettos and pines. Gray was galloping
about in the woods among swarms of yellow and brown butterflies,
swishing his net like a polo mallet, and drawing bridle every now and
then to examine some specimen