192 AMOXG THE SEMIJS OLES. 



The next day we visited the corn fields, and, a rain 

 coming up, accompanied Parker and Tiger to their shan 

 ties. My guide having offered his horse to Parker s 

 squaw, I could do no less than offer mine to the old 

 squaw, which Tiger accepted in behalf of himself. I 

 hoped he would break his neck. It was an unique pro 

 cession that wound through the shady cypress swamps 

 and over the prairie. First there were Parker s two 

 daughters young ladies of sixteen and seventeen respec 

 tively who had captured one of papa s colts, and, 

 mounted upon its back man-fashion, led the cavalcade. 

 They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and their musi 

 cal laughter would come floating back at every leap and 

 kick of their half-broken steed. Next came Parker s 

 wife, astride my guide s pony, with a solemn-looking 

 pappoose on her back, holding up her scanty skirts with 

 one hand, while with the other she guided the beast. 

 Next came Tiger, with my rubber blanket over his head, 

 a tin kettle on one arm, an iron pot on the other, and a 

 lap full of corn. He didn t see the comical figure he cut, 

 but treated the whole matter as a thing of serious mo 

 ment. Parker, a host of pickaninnies, eleven dogs, a 

 young colt, and a hog or two came next. My guide and 

 I came last. The procession started ; the girls had 

 stripped, and were clinging to the pony and each other 

 for dear life. We had gone but a few rods before the 

 pony suddenly elevated his heels, landing the girls a 

 confused vision of arms and legs rods away in the mud. 

 With another flourish of his heels, and a snort of defi 

 ance, he then scoured away over the plain. That started 

 the rest ; my guide s pony vainly strove to throw his 

 burden. Tigor had his hands particularly full as the bay 

 stallion sped away, with the blanket flapping and pail 



