· · ·
turning to page one
turning to page one
Tony, a ranger, drives along a dirt road past the Fakahatchee Strand State Preserve sign and enters the swamp. He sees the white van and Ford parked ahead, spots a Seminole license plate on the Ford. He pulls over down the road, and whispers into his C.B.
TONY
We got a Seminole, or Seminoles, in the
swamp. I'm on Janes Scenic Drive just
east of Logging Road Twelve. I repeat,
Indians in the swamp.
Tony waits for a response. Nothing.
TONY (cont'd)
Indians in the swamp.
Nothing still. Tony clears his throat into the radio.
RADIO VOICE
I don't know what you want me to say.
TONY
Barry, Indians do not go on swamp walks.
If there are Indians in the swamp, they
are in there for a reason.
No response. Tony glowers, gets out of the truck, watches the vehicles through binoculars. Nothing. He straightens his cap. Mosquitoes land on his neck, his nose, his lips.