Ahead of us stretched an extensive swamp, with pools of stagnant water
shimmering through lush grass and brown fringes of cat-tails bordering
their edges. Seemingly our further advance was stopped, nor could we
determine the end of the morass confronting us. Some distance out in
this desolation, and only half revealed through the dim light, a somewhat
higher bit of land, rocky on its exposed side, its crest crowned with
trees, arose like an island. Tim stared across at it, shading his eyes
with one hand.
"If we wus goin' ter stop enywhar, Cap," he said finally, "I reckon thar
ain't no better place then thet, pervidin' we kin git thar."
I followed his gaze, and noticed that the mulatto girl also lifted her
head to look.
"We certainly must rest," I confessed. "Miss Beaucaire seems to be
sleeping, but I am sure is thoroughly exhausted. Do you see any way of
getting across the swamp?"
He did not answer, but Elsie instantly pointed toward the left, crying
out eagerly:
"Sure, Ah do. The lan' is higher 'long thar, sah--yer kin see shale
rock."
"So you can; it almost looks like a dyke. Let's try it, Tim."
It was not exactly a pleasant passage, or a safe one, but the continual
increase in light aided us in picking our way above the black water on
either hand. I let my horse follow those in front as he pleased and held
tightly to the bit of the one bearing Eloise. It had to be made in
single file, and we encountered two serious breaches in the formation
where the animals nearly lost their footing, the hind limbs of one,
indeed, sliding into the muck, but finally reached the island end,
clambering up through a fissure in the rock and emerging upon the higher,
dry ground.
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