“Me no black man!” exclaimed the rescued one, shaking himself like a dog and thereby splashing water over all in the boat. “Me Indian. My name Ottiby. Me chief! Ugh!”
“He is one of the Seminole tribe,” put in the professor. “I recognize the characteristics.”
“Paddle catch in long grass,” went on Ottiby, as if in excuse for such a child of nature as an Indian letting water get the best of him. “Me go overboard. Get caught in weeds. No can git loose. Steamboat come along. Boy pull Ottiby out. Good boy. Ottiby no forget. Can get canoe?”
This last seemed to be a question which Ned interpreted as a desire on Ottiby’s part to have his boat back again. Accordingly the _Dartaway_ was sent ahead again, and the frail craft, which was hollowed from a log, was secured, together with the paddle which had come to the surface.
“Good!” spoke Ottiby with a grunt, when he saw his property secure. “Me no forget white man and boys,” and he looked at the travelers.
As he caught sight of the knife in the professor’s hand, and saw Jerry’s bared foot, with the bloody arrow head sticking in it, the Indian gave a start of surprise.
“Boy hurt?” he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer. “Cut out arrow. Me know. Go ashore. Me get somet’ing stop pain. Ottiby know. Put ashore!”
“Steer the boat to land, Ned,” said the professor. “I believe we saved this Indian in the nick of time. He probably knows of some plant that I can use to make it less painful for Jerry while I cut the arrow out.”
Ottiby made his way to the stern where he held the rope fastened to his canoe, by which it was being towed. Though he had been near to death he seemed perfectly at his ease now, with no regard of what might have happened if the travelers in the speedy _Dartaway_ had not come along. But that he was not ungrateful was shown by his quick thought in the matter of Jerry.
The motor boat was moored in a little cove but, even before it was made fast Ottiby had leaped ashore and disappeared in the woods.
“Looks as if he was running away,” said Ned.
“No danger,” replied the professor. “He’s going for the plant, I believe.”
The professor was correct. In about ten minutes Ottiby returned. In his hand he held several long roots. Mr. Snodgrass tried to discover what they were, but the chief knew only the Indian name for them, and they were a species of plant with which the scientist was not familiar.