IT was strange sounds coming out of the mists that had drawn the lads' attention. They were not kept long in suspense as to the nature of the noises, for it soon became plain that they were human voices, one shrill and piercing, the other deep and guttural. Nearer they drew, until out of the white vapor loomed a huge, grotesque object, which gradually resolved itself into a big covered wagon, drawn by four gaunt oxen. In the front of the wagon sat an Indian woman, urging the weary beasts on with whip and shrill cries. Behind the wagon walked a huge, powerful Indian, closely followed by a mass of pigs, cattle and goats, which were urged on from the rear by a pack of mongrel dogs, of all sizes and colors. With much squealing of pigs, barking of dogs, and cries from the squaw, this strange equipage came to a stop in front of the camp. The two boys advanced to the road to meet the visitors. "Hello," Walter greeted them. "Hello," returned the Indian. "No can get by big machine?" "No," said McCarty, "I'm afraid you can't. Machine right in road, deep ditches both sides, plenty mud. Back one mile is a road that circles around the machine. You understand?" The Indian nodded comprehension. "No can find road at night. Me camp here." "All right," Walter assented. "When you get unhitched, come over to camp fire and have something to eat." The two boys rummaged around in the cook tent and got out a can of salmon, one of corned beef, and a box of crackers, which they carried out to the camp fire. The Indian was there awaiting them. "She unhitch oxen," he explained. Walter grinned. "Indian man no work?" he inquired. "No work," agreed the Seminole. "Your squaw?" asked the interested lad. "No, sister," and a gleam of interest shone on the Indian's impassive face. "You want squaw?" he demanded. "No," said Walter hastily, while McCarty laughed. "Sister strong, work good, cook good, too," recommended the Seminole seriously. "Why don't you get a squaw yourself?" McCarty demanded. "Sister got tongue sharp as knife point," admitted the Indian sadly. "She and squaw would fight and fight and fight with their tongues, and there would be no peace in the camp for its master." Her task performed, the Indian girl now approached the fire. She was pretty for an Indian. Like all Seminole girls, she wore a waist of bright colors, a skirt of calico of many hues, and beaded moccasins on her feet. She was frankly unembarrassed and smiled around at her hosts in evident friendliness. Walter opened the cans and handed them and the crackers to the girl. "No meal cooked in big tent," he explained. "To-morrow morning have plenty hot grub." The two ate silently and hungrily, and as soon as they had finished departed for their wagon with a brief "Good-by." "They never even said thanks," McCarty commented.