AMONG THE SEMIXOLES. 



Tom refused to cook any more. 



&quot; Is-ta-lus-ta lazy; ho-la-wan-gus !&quot; said Tiger. 



Thus taunted, Tom broke open our last package of 

 flour, and busied himself, cursing the Indians the while, 

 till they all united in a satisfied &quot; me full!&quot; These 

 untutored &quot;sons of the forest&quot; soon left us, with their 

 customary &quot; me hiepus j &quot; (me go), and AVC were -not 

 very sorry that, to use their own expression, they were 

 &quot; sui-cus-j &quot; (gone). From Tom s quarters, that night, I 

 heard a muttered blessing upon the &quot; Is-ta-chat-tas.&quot; 

 In the morning they brought us a peace-offering of 

 venison, and that night we had an alligator hunt by 

 moonlight. 



I shall never forget the weird aspect of the scene 

 spread out before us, as we assembled silently upon the 

 banks of the creek. The creek bed could be traced 

 through the vast plain by the occasional clumps of 

 palms, till lost in the swam}) far beyond. The bright 

 plumaged herons, that told of its meanderings as they 

 hovered over it by day, were now gone, and silence, as 

 of the grave, reigned over us. The creek-bed was dry 

 and exposed, except at intervals there were great holes 

 full of alligators rightly called &quot; alligator holes. &quot; Here, 

 crowded together, they were patiently awaiting the set 

 ting in of the rainy season, which would set them free 

 from their narrow prisons. 



The &quot; gators &quot; seemed to have had notice of our 

 coming, as, when we gathered upon the steep bank, not 

 a head was visible. &quot;Ump, ump, ump !&quot; said Fistilo- 

 kecn, imitating the grunting of a young alligator. Soon 

 a dozen knotty heads showed themselves, peering anxi 

 ously above the water. At the slightest motion they 

 would disappear. 



