Trailing vines hung from great trees on either side of the path. Large bunches of Spanish moss festooned other monarchs of the forest, which seemed gloomy indeed as the girls gazed off into it. Now and then some creature of the woods, disturbed by the passage of the party, would take flight and scurry off, fly away or slink deeper into the fastness, according to its nature.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Grace in a low voice, as she walked along behind Betty, "I don\'t like it here!"

"Why not?" asked Mollie, who was in the rear of Grace. "I think it is most romantic. Just think—we may be treading over the very ground where de Leon and his men searched for that fountain of perpetual youth."

"What was that?" asked Mr. Hammond, turning about interestedly.

"Oh, one of the old discoverers was searching for a fountain to keep him young," explained Betty, with a smile.[104]

"Huh! He\'d better be careful of what he drinks in these woods," said the overseer. "There\'s water that\'s deadly poison, to say nothing of the moccasins and copperheads in some of the swamps. If that fellow is a friend of yours warn him to be careful."

"Oh, he died some years ago," explained Mollie, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, well, then that\'s all right," and the overseer seemed relieved. "Yes, you want to be careful of what you drink in these wilds. Of course a good clear spring is all right, and generally you\'ll find a cocoanut shell, or something like that, near it to drink from. That\'s a sign it\'s good water."

"What are those other things?" asked Amy. "Cottontails—did you call them—do you mean rabbits?"

"No, indeed. I mean snakes."

"Oh!" screamed the girls in chorus.

"They call \'em cotton mouths because their lips are white," Mr. Hammond explained, "and it looks as though they were chewing cotton. They\'re deadly too, and so are the copperheads, which look just like that color. Be careful of \'em."

"I—I don\'t believe I want to go any farther," faltered Grace, hanging back.[105]

"Oh, there\'s none along this trail!" the overseer hastened to assure her. "It\'s only where there\'s not much travel. Just keep a sharp lookout—that\'s all."

They went on in Indian file, for the path was narrow. As they penetrated deeper into the interior the woods became more and more gloomy until even brave Betty began to feel a bit doubtful as to the wisdom of coming. But she knew Mr. Hammond could be trusted to see that no harm came to them.

The path widened now and they came to a little clearing. On one edge of it stood a hut before which was an old man—so old in fact that to the outdoor girls he seemed like a wizened monkey.

"Mercy! Who\'s that?" whispered Mollie.

"An Indian," answered Mr. Hammond.

"An Indian?" queried Betty.

"Yes, one of the Seminoles. He\'s all right, and a friend of mine. Hello, Ko-dah!" called Mr. Hammond, adding something in a sort of jargon, to which the aged man replie............