HOME AGAIN. 277 







with their passionate embrace. The lunge of the alliga- 

 tor, the cry of the bittern as he rose from the reeds, the 

 scream of the fish-hawk, circling in the air, and chasing 

 the tern, seemed fitting music for so strange a scene, and 

 soothed and interested the mind, while the low s'ong the 

 oarsmen sung did not disturb the wild inhabitants of the 

 air, or mar the unity of the scene. 



The river grew familiar, and Lou Jackson recognized 

 remembered trees and openings, and soon we saw ahead 

 of us the bluff that marked the landing at Far Away, and 

 then the logs that formed the rustic wharf, and then the 

 seat under the oaks, and then we landed once again on 

 familiar ground ; and leaving the boys to " tote the plun- 

 der," wound our way up the hill toward the house, Jack- 

 son taking the lead. The young Indian seemed to have 

 made up his mind to accompany us, if not pleasantly, at 

 least without any manifest reluctance, though I noticed 

 Mike was always by his side. 



As we mounted the hill I looked for the flock of sheep 

 that usually fed on the bluff, but they were not there, 

 though in a moment we passed one of the wethers dead 

 by the side of the path. Before I could remark upon 

 this, I heard a cry ahead from Jackson, and hastening 

 forward we saw the cabin was not there, but a pile of 

 of ashes that was drifting hither and yon by the wind, 

 and a column of smoke, that ascended from the rums, 

 marked the place where it stood. The sheds were 

 burned, and the sheep pen. The little kitchen, where so 

 many pleasant dinners had been cooked, was gone. 



