WILD HUNTING COMPANIONS 183 



Back in the swamp among cypress ponds 

 was an abandoned plantation which had the 

 reputation of being haunted. The &quot;big house,&quot; 

 the planter s house, had been dismantled but 

 was still standing in fair condition. In the 

 neighborhood there was a powerful negro scape 

 grace much given to boasting that he feared no 

 ghost; and the local judge finally offered him 

 five dollars if he would go alone after nightfall 

 to the house in question and stay there until 

 sunrise. The negro accepted with the stipula 

 tion that he was to be allowed to light a lamp 

 that had been left in the house. The story 

 teller, who was as black as a shoe and a good 

 man in the swamp after bear, told the tale as 

 follows. I cannot pretend, however, to give his 

 exact expressions. 



&quot;Jake started after sunset. The moon was a 

 little more than half full, and it was a sure- 

 enough lonely walk through the cypress woods 

 along the abandoned, overgrown road. The 

 branches kept waving and the moonlight flick 

 ered on the ground, and Jake couldn t see any 

 thing clearly and yet could see a good deal, and 

 strange noises came from the swamp on both 

 sides. He was glad to get to the clearing, but 

 it was overgrown, too. The house shone white 

 in the moonlight, but the staring, open windows 



