The swamp lay on the north of the camp, and was, I was sure, part of the great rice field on which the Malhominis had their village to the west.  The swamp was flooded so that it would bear a canoe, and it teemed with fish.  I took the net,—­it was ingeniously woven of nettles pounded to a fibre and then spun into cords,—­and showed the Indian how to swing it across an eddy and draw it under with a swift, circular sweep that would entangle any fish.  I had success, and the Indian warmed to the sport and tried it himself.  He could not do it; he could not get the twist of the hand that was the whole secret, and I had to show him again.  He improved and grew ambitious.  A few braves wandered over to look at us, but my jailer was jealous of his new accomplishment, and we took a canoe and paddled out of sight.  We spent most of the day in the swamp.

That evening I went boldly to Pierre and said a few swift words.  I told him to keep as near the swamp as possible, and to tell the other men to do the same.  In about two days, if my plans carried, we should be able to accomplish something.  In the meantime they must appear contented, and try for the confidence of their guards.

Now my plan was simple.  I had in my shirt the bottle of laudanum that all traders carry, and it was my only weapon.  Pierre had shown me a small flask of rum which the Indians had not discovered, and which he had had the unexpected self-control to leave untouched.  I hoped that when my Indian had learned the casting of his net his vanity could be played on to invite the other Frenchmen and their guards to see his prowess, and that we should then have opportunity to treat the Indians to the laudanum-dosed rum.  It was a crazy scheme, but worth a trial.  If we could get possession of the canoe, there was some hope that we could make our way to the Malhominis village.

No teacher was ever more zealous than I for my net-thrower.  Early the next morning I winked toward the swamp, and jerked my thumb over my shoulder.  The Indian came willingly.  Why should he not?  I was unarmed, and he had knife and hatchet and was my peer in strength.  He thought me a strange fool, but useful.

But that morning the lesson went badly.  The Indian was clumsy, and being ashamed of himself, grew surly and indifferent.  The sun was hot, the water dazzling, and mosquitoes rose in clouds.  The Indian wanted to go back to camp, and I cudgeled my wits for expedients to keep him there.

And then I bethought me of an accomplishment which I had shown Indians before.  Quickness of hand is my greatest resource, and I had been known to noose a fish.  I tore my handkerchief in ribands, made a weighted sling, and had the Indian swing the canoe over a ripple where a great bass lay.  I waited my time, then plunged my hand down with the weighted noose.  I drew it up, with the fish caught through the gills.

The Indian was pleased.  He grunted and exclaimed in his own speech, though he thought I could not understand.