The swamp lay on the north of the camp, and was, I was sure, part of
the great rice field on which the Malhominis had their village to the
west. The swamp was flooded so that it would bear a canoe, and it
teemed with fish. I took the net,--it was ingeniously woven of nettles
pounded to a fibre and then spun into cords,--and showed the Indian how
to swing it across an eddy and draw it under with a swift, circular
sweep that would entangle any fish. I had success, and the Indian
warmed to the sport and tried it himself. He could not do it; he could
not get the twist of the hand that was the whole secret, and I had to
show him again. He improved and grew ambitious. A few braves wandered
over to look at us, but my jailer was jealous of his new
accomplishment, and we took a canoe and paddled out of sight. We spent
most of the day in the swamp.
That evening I went boldly to Pierre and said a few swift words. I
told him to keep as near the swamp as possible, and to tell the other
men to do the same. In about two days, if my plans carried, we should
be able to accomplish something. In the meantime they must appear
contented, and try for the confidence of their guards.
Now my plan was simple.
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