12 WILD SPOETS m THE SOUTH. 



boughs had been built as a break-wind, and to keep the 

 reflected heat near the fire. Here and there were scat- 

 tered accoutrements, or the relics of the last night's 

 meal, feathers of birds, skins of beasts, antlers of deer. 

 The serried leaf of the palmetto fringed us around like a 

 hedge, and above us the tassels of the pine trees just 

 began to be discernible against the mornmg sky. Once 

 in a whUe a bird twittered in the trees, now and then a 

 sound like dropping rain was heard, where some animal 

 shook the dew-laden branches. All else was still, save 

 the quiet murmur of the sea on the beach, some little 

 distance off. Its low roar lulled me ; I shut my eyes to 

 the coming dawn, and turned over in my blanket. How 

 pleasant is that second sleep at the grey twilight ! 



I know not how long I slept ; but when I awoke the 

 negroes had rekindled the fire, and a pleasant fragrance 

 of cooking meats mingled with the pine scent of the 

 forest. I started to my feet, and taking my gun, saun- 

 tered down the bank of the river, partly for a walk, and 

 partly to search for game. The air was clear and cool, 

 and all nature seemed to be coming forth to salute the 

 day. The quail whistled in the distance, the grey and 

 fox squirrels leaped from bough to bough, or half 

 descending the great trunks of the oak trees, challenged 

 with pert gestures the passers-by. Long trains of cor- 

 morants sailed overhead to their feeding grounds, and 

 with measured beat the ibis and heron were slowly pass- 

 ing seaward. I saw the ducks feeding on the margins 

 of the river, and the various tribes of woodpeckers, jays. 



