“I’m not sure, but I think they belong to the ibis family.  Look at that ’coon scurrying up that log, running from the water.  He’s been trying to scoop out a dinner of fish, too.  Nearly everything feeds on fish down here, even many of the wild ducks.  Got him that time, did you, Will?”

“I think so,” replied Will complacently, for he had snapped his camera while the striped “bushy-tail” was still moving up the slanting log.

They were making fair progress all the while.  So the afternoon began to wear away.  The current was almost enough to carry them on at the rate of several miles an hour.  With the prospect of meeting hidden snags at any minute, Frank did not deem it wise to put on any speed.  That would come when they were upon the open gulf, and obstacles no longer worried them.

They had entered a section that undoubtedly bordered on a swamp.  The trees grew thicker, and shut out much of the light, so that it seemed actually like dusk.  And to the delight of Will, the long streamers of Spanish moss hung everywhere.

“Say, perhaps we’d better pull up soon for the night.  This sort of work needs all the eyesight we’ve got, and it’s getting some gloomy just now.  I wouldn’t dare attempt an exposure with this shadow on everything,” remarked Will.

“Always something wrong, eh, Will?  However, putting the picture-getting aside, you’ll admit that this is a mighty comfy position to be in.  There’s Bluff writing up the menu he expects to spring on us the first meal out,” laughed Frank.

“I own up I was thinking of something along that line.  Wish I had some of the fine oysters they tell us grow down South.  Your sister Nellie gave me several recipes to try, and I’m going to spring them on you the first chance, see if I don’t.”

“Well, I only hope you have better success than the said Nellie usually has.  My dad threatens to send her to cooking school before she kills off the entire family with her experiments.  But as to the oysters, you must wait till we get out of the river.  This is fresh water.  Mussels or fresh-water clams grow in such places, but hardly oysters,” observed Frank.

“I’m going to tell Nellie what you said, when we get back,” declared Bluff.

“Well, it encourages me to know that you expect we will survive the operation.  But then, ten to one they are recipes she clipped from some paper, and wants you to try for her.  I’m going to keep an eye on you whenever you hang around the fire, remember.  You can bear watching,” Frank continued.

“Glad to hear that, for some people can’t,” remarked the other calmly.

At which the laugh was on Frank; but he took it good-naturedly, as always.  It required a good deal to make him show signs of being provoked; but like most people of that temperament, if ever he did lose his temper, he was apt to be very angry indeed.

Presently they found what seemed to be a good place to tie up for the night.  A small boat, called the dinghy, or dinky, was trailed behind.  This might come in handy whenever they wanted to go ashore while the motor-boat was anchored; or one of the boys might wish to use it for fishing, gathering oysters, or shooting shore birds, later on.