"One who should be well known to thee, Ta-lah-lo-ko. I speak of Chitta
the Snake, whom I hope we may not encounter."

"It will be the worse for him if we do encounter him, and he ventures
to interfere with us," replied Réné, hotly.

"Nay, Ta-lah-lo-ko. I have a feeling within me which warns me that a
meeting with the Snake will be a sad one for us," answered Has-se, who,
though as brave as a young lion, was inclined to be superstitious, as
were all of his race.

During this conversation the course of the canoe had been through a
mere thread of a stream, and Réné now noticed that they were traversing
the mazes of a dark swamp. The little stream connected a series of
stagnant pools or bayous, and just as they came into the open water of
one of these they caught a glimpse of another canoe leaving it on the
opposite side. Even as they sighted it, it shot in among the trunks of
a dense cypress forest, and disappeared.


[1]Before the Seminoles became the powerful tribe into which they
finally grew they were a band of outlaws, composed of those who, for
some good reason, had fled or been driven from the Creeks, Cherokees,
Choctaws, Chickasaws, and other tribes of the South.--K. M.




CHAPTER VII