^S8 WILD SPOETS IN THE SOUTH. 



water, red with the reflection of the sunset, and Bonda 

 Key oj^ened its headland of stately verdure. 



"Ay, it is!" responded one and all; and the boats 

 flitted along the glassy waters side by side, the shadows 

 fading and brightening with the glow of the sky, or the 

 twilight of the shore, as one and then the other opened 

 in the west. The hunters stretched their weary limbs in 

 listless attitudes, and their heads swayed to the spring- 

 ing motion imparted by the oar. Miss Jackson sat in the 

 bottom, trailing her hands in the water on either side of 

 the boat, while the oarsmen sang, with deep voices and 

 perfect time, the great old negro boat-song : 



" Gen'ral Jackson migbty man, 

 Waugh my kingdom, fire away ! 

 Fought on sea, and fought on land, 

 "Waugh my kingdom, fire away!" 



