150 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 



him. The night was dark, as the moon had not then 

 risen, but it was clear. When the old man learned 

 that we were willing to accompany him he seemed 

 content; but whether joy or sadness overspread his 

 features, it was all one with the expression of them, 

 so sunken and wrinkled were they. The boys pre- 

 pared torches and collected our luggage, and then we 

 started off. The old Indian struck a brisker gait than 

 we had supposed him capable of, and we followed by 

 the light of the torches. 



There is a weird solemnity about a night march in 

 a great forest. On either side of you is a wall of inky 

 blackness ; before, behind, the same enclosing gloom, 

 against which the torches send a feeble glare. By 

 the time we had reached the high woods, where the 

 trees were completely enveloped in masses of vines, 

 our surroundings assumed an aspect wild and terrible. 

 That hanging liane, twisted and contorted, took the 

 shape of a serpent ready to dart at us as we passed. 

 The flickering play of the light upon the leaves of 

 trees and parasites, alternately bringing to view and 

 leaving in shade strange forms, gave to everything a 

 startlingly living appearance. It was as if all had 

 been changed into animated beings, especially nox- 

 ious insects, like scorpions and spiders, which, one 

 and all, seemed crawling in our direction. 



At last we came into a more open forest, a densely 

 wooded plateau, the home of the wild hog and the 

 resort of runaway slaves in olden time. Very few, 

 even of the hunters, visited these dark woods we were 

 now traversing. We penetrated the dense shade, fol- 

 lowing now our guide, for the boys were wholly at 

 loss. Suddenly there boomed through the forest a 



