CHAPTER I.
AN ECCENTRIC COUPLE
One fine October afternoon, in the year 1880, a sailboat might have been seen gliding serenely over the waters of Lake Okechobee, in the southern part of Florida.
The boat had but two occupants, and these were so different in appearance that a little description of them will not be out of order.
The elder of the two was attired in a very loose-fitting suit of blue flannel, and wore a Panama hat.
He was probably fifty years of age, and one look at his round, smooth-shaven face would have told the casual observer that he was a good-hearted individual.
His eyes were hidden by a pair of blue goggles of extraordinary proportions, which made the man look as though he had donned a diver’s helmet.
In stature this remarkable personage was short and very stout.
Prof. Remington Easy was his name, and now, as he has been introduced, we will turn our attention to his companion – a tall, lanky individual, attired in corduroy knee breeches, heavy top-boots, red flannel shirt, linen coat and a broad-brimmed hat – a typical Yankee, for all the world.
This was Martin Haypole, the professor’s right-hand man.
The Yankee was not over thirty years of age, and had it not been for the thin bunch of yellow hair he wore on his chin, he would have been a fair-looking man.
Martin was about six feet two inches in height, and weighed probably one hundred and thirty-five pounds; thus it will be seen that he possessed not an ounce of superfluous flesh.
He had often remarked that what he lacked the professor amply made up for, and vice versa.
But what are these two curious individuals doing in this wild part of Florida? the reader may ask.
The question is answered in a very few words.
Prof. Remington Easy was of an exploring turn of mind.
About a month before the opening of our story he became deeply interested in that vast, unexplored region in the southern part of Florida known as the Everglades.
The more he studied over the matter the more he became desirous of penetrating the heart of the swamp and discovering something wonderful.
The professor possessed an unlimited supply of cash, and he spared no expense in fitting himself out for his trip.
Thus we now find them in their boat upon the lower part of Lake Okechobee, within about five miles of the beginning of the Everglades.
The sun was yet about three hours high, and the professor hoped to reach a good place to land before the shades of night gathered around them.
It was now the second day since they had entered the upper portion of the lake, by way of the stream beyond it, and the professor judged that the marshes must be close at hand.
Owing to the fact that their boat did not possess one of those useful things known as a centerboard, and that the winds had been contrary ever since they entered Lake Okechobee, they had made but a scant twenty miles in nearly two days.
While Prof. Easy was satisfied with this slow mode of progress, Martin Haypole was not.
The boat, which was christened Maid of the Marsh, appeared to be a very insignificant thing in the eyes of the Yankee.
He had laughed at it, swore at it and nearly cried over it.
And now, just as Prof. Easy made a prodigious effort and rose to his feet, he began again.
“I tell you, professor, this is the dod-rottedest boat that ever sot in water. Them trees there to the south’ard are ther Everglades; but d’yer think we’ll ever git thar at this rate? Mought better started in a rowboat. Maid of ther Marsh! A cussed fine name, ain’t it? I hope she gits stuck in some marsh afore long, an’ never gits out again. But I’m ’fraid we’ll both be gray-headed afore she gits to a marsh. Twenty miles in two days! Well, I swan ter Guinea! If that ain’t travelin’ in ther nineteenth century, I’m a downright fule!”
“Tut, tut, Martin,” replied the professor; “take things easy. I took notice that you were very glad to get in the boat day before yesterday, when that big alligator gave chase after you.”
“Oh! she were good enough then, professor. I don’t want a ’gator nosin’ aroun’ me; an’ this tub is good enough when that kind of work is goin’ on. But when you come right down ter sailin’, whar in blazes does this dod-rotted thing come in?”
“Have patience, Martin. We will reach those trees yonder in less than an hour. See! a favorable breeze is even now springing up.”
The professor was right. For the first time during their voyage upon the lake the wind was blowing in a direction suited to their course.
The hitherto flapping mainsail now bellied out, and the little craft went skipping through the water like a thing of life.
Even Martin Haypole was temporarily satisfied, and with his hand upon the tiller he watched the rapidly nearing forest in the swamp district.
The breeze kept up, and, sure enough, in a little while they arrived at the end of the lake proper.
As soon as they got among the trees, the breeze ceased to exist, and once more the sail flapped idly about the mast.
“I’ll be gosh-dinged if we won’t eat supper on land to-night, anyhow!” exclaimed the Yankee, as he pushed the boat, by means of a long pole, into a narrow creek, and made for a little island that was several feet above the level of the marsh.
“Good enough, Martin – good enough!” returned his companion, rubbing his hands. “I am agreeable, I assure you.”
At that moment the prow of the boat struck the bank and caused the fat professor to lose his balance and tumble overboard.
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the Yankee, as he observed his employer floundering about in the muddy water. “How d’ye like it, professor? You laughed at me when I fell overboard – now it is your turn, by gosh! I told you laughin’ was catchin’. Now, if one of them ugly ’gators was ter come along there would be fun. Thunder and lightnin’! if there ain’t one, now, I’m a rank sinner!”
A floundering was heard a few feet from the struggling professor, and a half-grown alligator was seen making for him with all his might.
The luckless man had now assumed an upright position, with the dirty, black water even with his chin, and as he observed his peril he bellowed lustily for help.
He strove in vain to reach the gunwale of the boat, but the distance was too far for his short arms.
Haypole, with an amused smile upon his face, allowed the alligator to get within a few feet of his intended prey, and then reached over suddenly and seized his employer by the arms.
He then saw that he would not be able to get him out as quickly as he had anticipated, and his gleeful look turned to one of alarm.
The professor was a heavyweight of the first water, and had it not been for the fact that Haypole was a very strong man, the ferocious alligator would certainly have had a good supper that night.
But by an almost superhuman effort he jerked him from the muddy water just as the ferocious monster made a vicious snap with its huge jaws.
“Murder!” yelled the professor, as he fell in a heap at the feet of the Yankee; “the thing has bitten off my foot!”
“I guess not, professor; he only nipped off ther heel of yer shoe. Great haystacks! but that was a narrar escape, though! I didn’t know you was so ’tarnal heavy.”
As soon as the half-drowned man found that he was not injured, he got mad, and shaking his fist under Haypole’s nose, said:
“Martin, if you ever let such a thing as that occur again, I’ll discharge you on the spot!”
“Now, don’t git mad, old man; you won’t discharge me, you know you won’t. Why, thunderation! You couldn’t git along without me.”
“It