Russ and Paul looked at each other. They were not quite so sure, now, in view of the silence, that help was at hand. Still, the fact that the boat was tied showed that it had not merely drifted to the spot. Some human agency must have been about at some time or other. With Russ and Paul in the lead the little party made their way to the palm leaf hut. It was ingeniously made--a glance showed that. A palm tree had been taken for the centre pole, and about this had been tied layer after layer of palm leaves, so laid as to shed the rain. The hut was circular, and at the outer edge of the roof poles had been driven into the ground to support it. There was a small opening, which necessitated stooping to enter, and this doorway, if such it could be called, was covered by a sort of curtain of palm leaves, made in layers and fastened together with withes and wild leaves, laced in and out. "Quite a piece of work!" commented Paul. "Now I wonder how one is to knock at a palm leaf door?" "Don't knock--call," suggested Russ, and, raising his voice, he fairly shouted: "Is anyone here?" There was no answer. "I wonder if it would be impolite to open the door, or the curtain, and look in?" suggested Alice. "Under the circumstances--I think not," answered Mrs. Maguire. "We need help, and this is the first sign we have seen of it." Russ stepped forward, and, after a moment of hesitation lifted the curtain of palm leaves. The interior of the hut was rather dark, and, for a moment he could see nothing. "Anyone there?" asked Paul. "Not a soul," was the disappointing reply. "It's empty." "Oh, dear!" sighed Alice. "What are we to do?" Ruth wanted to know. No one could answer her. Russ was busy making a more thorough examination of the interior of the hut. "It's a good place to stay--if we have to," he said to Paul, who had joined him inside. "And it looks as though we'd have to--eh?" "I'm afraid so." Russ fastened the palm curtain back and this let in more light. Then the others came up, though there was not room for them all inside. The hut would hold three comfortably--no more. "Who has been here?" "What sort of a hut is it?" "Has anyone been here lately?" Ruth, Alice, and Mrs. Maguire, in turn, asked these questions. "I don't know who has been here," said Russ, "but it's the sort of a hut a native might build--possibly a Seminole Indian. Or some hunters may have it to stay a few nights in a spot where they could get alligators, or whatever game they were after. The fact that the boat is here seems to show they haven't gone for good." "Oh, then they may come back!" cried Ruth. "Very likely to, I should say," spoke Russ. "We'll just stick around until they do." "I hope they come back before dark," ventured Ruth, and her sister echoed the wish.