The journey south through the Everglades seemed but a repetition of their former trip to Bill. The same endless stretches of sawgrass, intersected by lily-choked waterleads swept out to a low horizon. Occasional islands covered with a dense jungle of brilliant green provided the only variation in the monotonous landscape. The sun swam in cloudless skies, pouring down a heat that burned Bill’s flesh and sapped his vitality. The others, if they minded the terrific discomfort, appeared to ignore it. But Bill was thoroughly glad when at the beginning of the third day, they left the Everglades behind and paddled slowly down the broad bosom of a winding bayou.