THE HAND ABOVE THE REEDS 193 



were beginning a trade which has come to enrich the tables 

 of Northern cities. 



One of these toilers in the semi-tropic sands related to 

 him a remarkable story, in substance like the following: 



THE HAND ABOVE THE REEDS 



"I was paddling one night/' ran the story of the turtler, 

 " along the sandy shore, close to the tall grass that glim- 

 mered in the red light of the setting sun. I was preparing 

 to spread my mosquito-net over me and to pass the night 

 in the watery, reedy wilderness. 



" Thousands of bullfrogs and reptiles filled the air with 

 lively sounds; flocks of blackbirds were dropping down into 

 the coverts. 



" There opened to me a little stream, and to insure the 

 safety of my canoe from a night storm I turned into it. 



" A sight that astonished me burst suddenly on my eyes. 

 It was an unknown boat or yawl. It was stained with 

 blood, but it had no boatman. 



" I paddled up to this mysterious craft in the lonely 

 river, and looked over the gunwale. My eyes were dis- 

 tended with horror. There were two human bodies in the 

 silent boat, and they were livid and bespattered with gore. 



"Was this a ghost scene? Were the men victims of 

 pirates, or of hostile Indians? 



" If these regions were the resort of such enemies as 



seemed to have been here, I, too, might be in danger. 

 13 



