"We're much obliged----" began the captain, and the scarred man
interrupted with:
"But we ain't explainin'."
"Cheer up, boys!" laughed Higgins. "We're doing you a favor, you know."
"Know you are."
"So you might tip us off about why it's going to be hard luck for us to
hit this place we're bound for."
There was no reply. The captain sullenly kept the boat's nose in the
deep channel, but beyond this the gang was apparently no more
responsive to words than the alligators which lay sunning themselves at
the water's edge. The river now grew narrower, its waters grew
clearer, changing from a yellow to a faint indigo.
"Getting into a limestone formation," called Higgins over his shoulder.
"But I don't see anything that looks like land yet. This stuff ought
to be sold by the gallon instead of the acre."
Soon, however, a change began to appear in the landscape. The
mangroves gave way to banks of solid land. A few scattering pines,
tall, straight, thin and branchless save for their crowns, reared their
tops high above the tropical growths.
"There's land there," said Roger. "Where there are pines there's
honest ground beneath, even if it's only sand. It's good to see them."
"You're right. I begin to feel at home again. That thick stuff is
pretty, but give me some real trees.
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