The river seemed narrow and dark after the open sea to which the
Elmers had been so long accustomed, and from its banks the dense
growth of oak, cedar, magnolia, palm, bay, cypress, elm, and sweet
gum trees, festooned with moss, and bound together with a net-work
of vines, rose like walls, shutting out the sunlight. Strange
water-fowl, long-legged and long-billed, flew screaming away as
they advanced, and quick splashes in the water ahead of them told
of the presence of other animal life.

At sunset they were nearly two miles from St. Mark's, and opposite
a cleared spot on the bank, where was piled a quantity of light-
wood or pitch-pine. Here the captain and owner of the lighter, who
was a young white man named Oliver Johnson, proposed that they
should tie up for the night.

To this Mr. Elmer consented, and as soon as the boat was made fast
to the bank, active preparations were begun for cooking supper,
and for making everything as snug and comfortable as possible.

A large sail was stretched across some poles, in the form of a
tent, over the after-part of the lighter, and beneath this two
comfortable beds were made up from the abundant supply of
mattresses and blankets belonging to the Elmers. Jan Jansen and
Captain Johnson, who, Mark said, must be related, as their names
were the same, spread their blankets in the forward end of the
boat. On shore the negro crew built for themselves a thatched
lean-to of poles and palm-leaves beside the fire, that was already
throwing its cheerful light across the dark surface of the river.