An old Indian camp, with nothing but a junk of jerked deer meat left behind.

Elsie, gather up some of that old wood yonder and build a fire.

Kennedy and I will look after Miss Beaucaire." It was bright day by this time, the red of the rising sun in the sky, and I could trace the radius of swamp land stretching about us on every hand, a grim, desolate scene even in the beauty of that clear dawn.

We had been fortunate enough to approach the spot along the only available pathway which led to this little oasis, and a more secure hiding place it would be difficult to find.

The tree growth and heavy underbrush completely concealed the miserable shack from view in every direction, and what faint trail we had left behind us since we took to the water of the creek would be extremely hard to follow.