My name is Joe and I'm 13 years old, a year older than my cousin Ralph. The story I'm about to tell you is real, it actually happened. Both of us were staying with our parents in Miami for the Christmas holidays when we decided that we'd hitch a ride to the Florida Everglades and do some camping and fishing.

No sooner had we set up camp when this crazy parrot adopted us. He came out of nowhere and just settled on top of our tent. "What the heck is a parrot doing here in Florida?" Ralph retorted, "They ain't native to Florida? "How should I know?" I replied, "maybe he escaped from one of them bird jungles, or something like that." The parrot kept eyeing us as if to say, " if it's ok with you guys, I'll just stick around and keep you company." That was four days ago and he's still sticking around. The parrot couldn't talk or anything like that but kept up an endless chatter, lifting up one claw then the other while bobbing his head up and down; so we named him Pantomine. He was no trouble, so we didn't mind him at all.

We were having a good time just laying around, doing some fishing and exploring. Once in a while we saw an alligator or a water moccasin, but they didn't bother us and we certainly didn't bother them. Pantomine, as usual was chatting away, but we always knew when there was some unseen danger around like a snake or something like that because his chatter got a bit louder as if to warn us of some impending danger.

The sun had just broken through and its glimmering reflections through the trees was casting shadows on our tent when I was startled into half awakedness. I couldn't grasp what had awakened me, but the very loud chatter of Pantomine gave warning that something was wrong.

Ralph was not a light sleeper like me, so it was real tough trying to awaken him, as I repeatedly poked him in the ribs, he kept saying, "Leave me alone, will you? Go back to sleep." I guess my voice got real excited when I yelled, "Ralph, get up, something's wrong out there." Still half asleep, Ralph replied, " Nothing's wr…..," then his voice trailed away and he suddenly jerked himself up, half sitting, half laying, and yelled, "Pantomine, keep quiet, will you? Surprisingly, the parrot ceased his chatter and was now silent. "Joe, don't you hear it, or rather don't you not hear it?" I didn't understand Ralph's meaning at first, and then I caught on. It was quiet, too quiet.

What normally should have been a beehive of activity, was now stagnant in the early glow of the morning sunshine. There was no incessant screeching of birds, no croaking of frogs or alligators or animal-like sounds reverberating against the majestic cypress trees. It was if the Everglades were placed inside a vacuum where no sound could escape. It was as if the creatures could sense that they were in danger.

Then I remembered reading somewhere that animals got very quiet just before something was about to happen, like a storm, a big storm like a hurricane. We had no radio nor was there any way for us to know if a hurricane was coming. Although we had left word with the forest Ranger of about where we would be, our constant moving about would make it difficult to find us in the vast expanse of the Everglades.

We didn't have long to wait before it happened. The first signs were the whistling of leaves on the tall cypress trees as the wind suddenly picked up speed. Where only minutes ago, the sky was a cerulean blue, had now developed into a grayish mass of low nimbus clouds, full of intense cloud to cloud lightning. The splintering of wood was frightening as an occasional bolt of lightning escaped to ground and struck one of the trees.

Then without warning, the torrential rains came, and we realized that we were in trouble. "Let's get out of here," I cried. "Leave all the equipment, We'll have enough problems getting to safety without having having to drag that stuff along." "Let's go," Ralph Agreed, and off we went in search of safety, Pantomine tagging along, screeching louder than ever now.

The rain was blinding and we had difficulty seeing. The hurricane force of the winds kept slamming us into trees as we walked, and it wasn't long before we had to admit that we were lost. The water was rising all about us and Pantomine, who now was silent, was clutching on to my shoulder, hanging on for dear life.

Day turned into dusk, then into darkness as we stumbled on aimlessly. Walking was an effort as the muddy mire hampered our every step, and we were afraid that we may blunder into one of the quick-sand pits that the everglades is so noted for.

We were completely exhausted when I noticed a high spot ground, barely visible through the dimness of the night about 50 feet ahead. . I knew we would be safe, if only temporarily so, if we were able to make it. "Ralph," I cried. "let's head for that spot up ahead." But Ralph, totally exhausted, had collapsed and was laying face up in the mud and was starring at me. Ralph's words were barely audible as he replied, "I can't, my legs won't hold me. You go ahead and leave me here." Ignoring Ralph's pleas with all the strength I could muster, I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder.

It seemed like an eternity before we got there. Ralph was no light weight and I thought my pounding heart would jump out of my chest as I gently released him and fell exhausted on the ground next to him. Our bodies except for our heads, were completely immersed in mud and water and my last thought before I lost consciousness was: "What ever happened to Pantomine?"

It was daylight when I regained consciousness. The rain had stopped and the wind had dwindled down to a mere whisper. A hand was gently shaking me, and a far-away voice kept asking me, " are you boy's alright? Are you hurt anywhere? As I slowly gathered my wits, I noticed that Ralph and I were sitting with our backs propped against a tree. Ralph was stirring, so I knew that he was okay The strange voice took shape into an even stranger appearance. He wore faded blue jeans and was bare from the waist up. His jet-black hair was straight and hung to below his shoulders and was tied at his temple by a very colorful bandana. He wore a large ornament around his neck that seemed to be made of some sort of teeth. It only took me a moment to realize that this stranger was a Seminole Indian, a member of a tribe that settled in Florida many years ago.

After assuring the stranger that we were okay, and, anticipating our many questions and in excellent English, said "boys, my name is Capinaway, and as you probably observed, I am a Seminole Indian. My camp is only a short distance from here. When I found a lull in the storm, during the eye of the hurricane, I had taken the opportunity to check my traps, when I heard a loud parrot like screeching noise, so I went in the direction of the screeching to investigate, and to my amazement, I saw you two boys, unconscious, with water slowly rising up to your chins, and this parrot was hopping from one of your heads to the other boy's head, screeching away. And I'll be darned if I didn't hear, Please help these fellows. Then as I pulled you both to safety, the parrot stopped it's screaming and flew away."

We never did know what happened to Pantomine during the storm and we never saw him again, but we knew that it was he who alerted Capinaw, and saved our lives. As Capinaw led us to the safety of his camp, before the storm started again, I couldn't help thinking that maybe that wonderful parrot is sitting on someone elses tent and saying, "if it's okay with you guy's , I'll just stick around and keep you company."