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When she rounded a bend in the river, she saw an island that looked as though it had been magically placed there by God for her to find.
And then a thought came to her that gave her mixed feelings. This was surely the hidden island that so many people talked about.
This must be Mystic Island!
From what she knew, a lone clan of Seminole had escaped to this island when the American government began rounding up Indians to send them to reservations.
This Seminole clan had eluded the American soldiers, and had made their home where no one dared venture…where a white panther was rumored to keep guard over the island.
And now she had happened upon it.
Fear seemed to have numbed her insides at the thought of how she might be treated if the Seminole people were to see her so close to their private domain. But she had no choice except to land on the island and find her way to a place where she could hide until she figured out how to find her way back home.
Surely the island was large enough for one more person.
She grabbed the torch and lowered the flames intothe water, extinguishing them so that no one would notice her approach.
She paused awhile longer as she tried to get her bearings and decide where to beach the canoe. From what she could see beneath the fitful light of the moon, this was a large island.
But the view of the village itself was hidden by thick brush and tall trees, hung with beautiful lacy moss.
She had no idea where she should go on the island once she left the canoe, and only hoped that no one saw her.
She was afraid, yet knew she must find shelter on the island somehow. She must hide from her two captors, for surely the young braves made their home on Mystic Island.
There were no other Indian villages near her home. Her pulse racing, her throat dry from fear, Dorey paddled onward.
Her fingers trembled as she clutched the paddle.
She had spotted a deserted section of sandy beach. There were no other canoes beached there, so it seemed unlikely that hers would be found.
After she had finally landed, she began to make her way through the thick brush. The moon came out from behind the clouds, providing enough light for her to see by.
It seemed forever before she came to a clearing, where she found herself at the edge of a huge garden. Shoulder-high corn was the most prominent crop growing there.
She found shelter amid the cornstalks as she ranonward, then stopped and stared when she came to the edge of the cornfield and saw many dome-shaped homes, and a huge fire burning in the center of the village.
She could hear voices but she didn’t see anyone. It seemed that everyone had retired for the night in their lodges.
That worked in Dorey’s favor. There was a good chance she would be able to find a place to stay the night without being discovered.
She knew she didn’t want to sleep on the ground, not where wild animals might sniff her out during the night.
She stepped farther from the cornfield, her eyes searching around her. And then she saw something promising.
It was another dome-shaped house, located just past the garden, but it was built high on a platform. A ladder leaned against it to provide access.
There was no lamplight coming from within, nor any fire, so she gathered that it wasn’t a place where people lived.
With a sigh of relief, Dorey scampered up the steps of the ladder.
When she reached the door that led into the house, she hurried inside, then stopped and gazed slowly around her.
The moonlight coming through the open door revealed that this was a storage place of some sort, probably for harvested crops. During her quiet hours of reading in bed at night, she had found the study of Indians
interesting, especially since her family hadmoved to the plantation, where Seminole people lived nearby.
During her reading about the Seminole, she had discovered that their harvested crops were stored in a place called a garita.
