Henry and the shiftless one saw Alvarez and his company dismount and enter the house.  They noticed others who approached on foot, but who did not enter, obviously men who did not dare to enter unless asked.  Among them was a thin, middle-aged Natchez Indian, whose extraordinary, feline face had won for him the name of The Cat.  Henry particularly observed this man, whose manner was in accordance with his appearance and name.  Like those they had seen in the canoes he had a hangdog, shiftless look, different from the bold warrior of the more northerly forests.

The two did not remain long.  So many people were about that they were likely to be seen, and they returned through the forest to the cypress cove in which “The Galleon” lay hidden.  Here, it was agreed that they should go forth later in the day on another tour of inspection, re-inforced by Tom Ross, while Long Jim and Paul should remain to guard the boat and their precious stores.

When the three had gone, Long Jim sat on the edge of the boat and looked around at the sluggish waters of the bayou, the sad cypresses, and the drooping live oaks.  An ugly water snake twined its slimy length just within the edge of the bayou, and the odor of the still forest about them was heavy and oppressive.

Long Jim took a long, comprehensive look, and then heaved a deep sigh.

“What’s the matter?” asked Paul.

“I don’t think the country and the climate agree with me,” replied Long Jim lugubriously.  “I wuz never so fur south afore, an’ I’m a delicate plant, I am.  I need the snow and the north wind to keep me fresh an’ bloomin’.  All this gits on me.  My lungs don’t feel clean.  I’m longin’ fur them big, fine woods up in our country, whar you may run agin a b’ar, but whar you ain’t likely to step on a snake afore you see it.”

“Give me the temperate climate, too,” said Paul, “but we’ve come on a great errand, Jim, and we’ve come a long way.  It’s good, too, to see new things.”

“So it is, but I don’t like to set here waitin’ in this swamp.  Think I’ll stretch my legs a little on the bank thar, ef it’s firm enough to hold me up, though I do have an abidin’ distrust uv most uv the land hereabouts.”

Jim leaped upon the bank which upheld him, and stretched his long legs with obvious relief.

“A boat’s mighty easy,” he said, “but now an’ then walkin’s good.”

He strode up and down two or three times and then he stopped.  He had heard a sound, faint, it is true, but enough to arrest the attention of Long Jim.  Then he went on with a look of disgust.  It was surely one of those snakes again!

He was about to pass a great cypress when a pair of long, brown arms reached out and grasped him by the throat.  Long Jim was a strong man and, despite his early advantage, it would have gone hard with the owner of the arms, none other than The Cat himself, but three or four men, springing from the covert, threw themselves upon him.