As rowing and poling the heavy lighter up the river would at best prove but slow work, and as there was no hotel or place for them to stay in St.
Mark's, Mr.Elmer thought they too had better make a start, and take advantage of the last of the flood tide and what daylight still remained.
So good-byes were exchanged, and feeling very much as though they were leaving home for the second time, the Elmers left the comfortable cabin that had sheltered them for nearly a month.

Followed by Jan, they went on board their new craft, and the lines were cast off.

The crew of four strong colored men bent over the long sweeps, and followed by a hearty cheer from the crew of the schooner, the scow moved slowly up the river.

In a few minutes a bend hid St.Mark's and the tall masts of the Nancy Bell from sight, and on either side of them appeared nothing but unbroken forest.
The river seemed narrow and dark after the open sea to which the Elmers had been so long accustomed, and from its banks the dense growth of oak, cedar, magnolia, palm, bay, cypress, elm, and sweet gum trees, festooned with moss, and bound together with a net-work of vines, rose like walls, shutting out the sunlight.

Strange water-fowl, long-legged and long-billed, flew screaming away as they advanced, and quick splashes in the water ahead of them told of the presence of other animal life.
At sunset they were nearly two miles from St.Mark's, and opposite a cleared spot on the bank, where was piled a quantity of light-wood or pitch-pine.