"Just now, however, you'll want to work hard,
I know, for we're going to have a grand feed on redfish. That means
you'll please get the wood while I clean the 'piece de resistance' of
our dinner. The boys put up a nice lunch."
Not far from the tree where they landed the boys found a suitable spot
for their camp. A fire was soon blazing merrily over which the fish
cooked with an appetizing odor.
"The boys laughed when I brought this pan along," remarked Arnold. "They
evidently didn't believe I would have need for it."
"They'll like that fine big fish we take home, I'll wager."
"After dinner, let's gather some of that Spanish Moss and take it to the
Fortuna. I wonder if it wouldn't make good mattresses."
"They say the negroes and some of the whites down here do just that.
They bury it in the ground a while then pack it into a mattress and have
a fine bed. It must be buried in the earth for a time, though, they say.
It is funny looking stuff isn't it?"
"It surely is. But what is that green plant up there? It looks as if the
oak tree were all dead except that one sprig of green. Strange that it
should keep only one twig alive."
"I believe that's mistletoe growing on a limb of the oak."
"I guess you're right. And down there at the foot of the tree I see a
quail. He's humped over and seems to be trying to make himself smaller
all the time."
"Hush, man," Harry protested. "Quails don't grow down South as far as
this! They're a Northern bird.
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