AMONG THE SEMIXOLES. 191 



I must cat, or lose my influence. Gently I grasped the 

 spoon, coyly I fished for a few kernels of corn, and very 

 little of the dish-water. I shut my eyes, opened my 

 mouth, shuddered, gulped lo, twas done ! The sec 

 ond pot contained pieces of boiled meat about an inch 

 square, which proved very good eating. So, inserting 

 my fingers, a la Indian, I drew forth a piece and ate it. 

 The third vessel contained about thirty feet of sausage, 

 looking so natural and life-like that I instinctively re 

 coiled. One of my brother revellers would seize one end 

 of the membranous rope, and, after storing away as 

 much as his mouth would contain, would sever by a 

 dexterous cut the adipose tissue and pass it to the next. 

 When my turn came I begged to be excused, and I ve 

 never hankered for sausage since. 



I stuck to pot No. 2 ; my appetite returned. I yet 

 cherished revengeful feelings toward Tiger, and did my 

 best. The meat was tender and juicy ; moreover, it had 

 a delicious flavor that I never had found pork possessed 

 of. Of course it was pork ; it wasn t venison, nor bear, 

 nor coon ; and I vowed I would get the receipt, and that 

 the next stray pig should be offered up. To be sure 

 that it was a pig I said to &quot; Charley,&quot; imitating the 

 Indian manner, &quot;Urn; good; too much; Shoko- 

 calika ? &quot; A negative shake of the head, and a single 

 word, &quot;Efab&quot; (dog), terminated the repast. In my 

 sleep that night came visions of fearful Indian curs, 

 chopped into small pieces, yet having the power to bark 

 and bite. 



As a special honor, I was assigned the chief s shanty 

 to sleep in that night, he being away. It differed in no 

 way from the rest, and probably the round logs which 

 made my bed were just as hard as the others. 



