By degrees, and with each one telling a part, the story of the moving picture players was related.  They told how they had looked in vain for their steamer.  Mabel and Helen Madison also went more into details, giving some of their trying experiences in the swamps and bayous.

“But for days we have not tried to find our way from here,” said Mabel.  “Our motor boat broke down, and we can’t get it to go.”

“I fancy I can fix it,” said Russ, “but the question is:  Which way to go?  We may only get to a worse place.”

“Let us eat, anyhow,” suggested Paul.

It was not a very elaborate meal, but it put new heart and courage into the lost ones.

“We’ll get back somehow—­some time,” declared Alice, who was now almost her old self.  “And then won’t everybody be glad!”

Night was coming on, but before the advent of darkness Russ had remedied the defect in the motor boat.  There was trouble with the ignition system, and also with the carbureter.

“Now we could go, if we knew which way to go,” he said, as he tested the craft.

“Hark!” exclaimed Alice, suddenly.

The sound of a cheerful whistle came through the screen of trees.

“Oh!” gasped Ruth.  “Who can it be?”

She had her answer a moment later.

Around a bend in the stream, rowing a battered boat, came an old colored man.  It was he who was making the melody.  Cheerfully he whistled, and more happily was he listened to.

“Ahoy there, Uncle!” called Russ.  “Can you tell us where we are, and where the Magnolia is tied up?”

The old colored man was so startled by the sudden hail, breaking in on his whistling, that he nearly went overboard.  He recovered himself, however, and called out: 

“Whut—­whut yo’ all doin’ at mah cabin?”

“Is this your place, Uncle?” asked Russ.

“It shore am.  An’—­an’—­I bids yo’ all welcome—­I shore does, honey!” he added quickly, remembering his hospitality.

“We’ve made ourselves at home,” said Mabel.  “Oh, whoever you are, can you show us the way out of this wilderness?”

“Kin I show yo’ all a way outen dish yeah woods?  I shore kin, honey lamb!  I knows dish yeah place laik a book, even if I cain’t read.  Where all does yo’ all want t’ go?  Oh, wait a minute, though.  Hole on!  I done got t’ ax yo’ all some questions.  Hab yo’ all seen any photographers round ’bout yeah?”

“Photographers?” repeated Paul.

“Yais, sah!  I done passed a steamer yist’day, an’ dey all on board was monstrous peeved ‘cause dey done lost der photographer.  Yo’ all know—­he takes dese pictures dat twinkle laik stars—­yo’ know, slidin’ pictures, I guess dey calls ’em.”

“Do you mean moving pictures?” asked Russ, eagerly.

“Uh, huh!  Dat’s what I means, honey.  All on board dish yeah steamer was pow’ful worried case de moving picture man an’ some oders got lost.  Yo’ all didn’t see ’em; did yo’ all?”