It was a quarter of an hour before the sparks began to drop from the wood.
These, with some very dry leaves and tiny chips of wood, the Indian boy rapidly blew into life; and then, with a very small fire of dry wood, he sat patiently watching the east.
At the moment that the sun showed above the sea, he placed the little fire in the heart of the pile of wood which he had collected, threw the green leaves upon it, and blew vigorously until the whole caught fire, and a wreath of smoke ascended above them.

For five minutes only he allowed the fire to burn, and then at once extinguished it carefully, knocking the fire from each individual brand.

When the last curl of white smoke had ceased to ascend, he stood up and eagerly looked round the country.
It was a glorious view.

On the one hand, the wood-clad hills sloped to the foot of the plain, covered with plantations, dotted here and there with the villages of the slaves, and the white houses of the overseers.

At a distance could be faintly seen the towers of a city; while beyond, the sea stretched like a blue wall, far as the eye could see.
Inland the country was broken and mountainous; the hills being, in all cases, thickly covered with trees.