warbled a little world of brilliantly plumaged birds.

J. T. Maston and the major could not repress their admiration on
finding themselves in the presence of the glorious beauties of
this wealth of nature. President Barbicane, however, less
sensitive to these wonders, was in haste to press forward;
the very luxuriance of the country was displeasing to him.
They hastened onward, therefore, and were compelled to ford
several rivers, not without danger, for they were infested
with huge alligators from fifteen to eighteen feet long.
Maston courageously menaced them with his steel hook, but he
only succeeded in frightening some pelicans and teal, while
tall flamingos stared stupidly at the party.

At length these denizens of the swamps disappeared in their
turn; smaller trees became thinly scattered among less dense
thickets-- a few isolated groups detached in the midst of
endless plains over which ranged herds of startled deer.

"At last," cried Barbicane, rising in his stirrups, "here we are
at the region of pines!"

"Yes! and of savages too," replied the major.

In fact, some Seminoles had just came in sight upon the horizon;
they rode violently backward and forward on their fleet horses,
brandishing their spears or discharging their guns with a dull report.
These hostile demonstrations, however, had no effect upon Barbicane
and his companions.