354 WILD SPOETS IN THE SOUTH. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



WOODLAND CHOTwUSES. 



"In the long nights of winter wlien the cold north -wind doth blow 

 And the howling of the wolves is heard amid the snow." 



Macaxjlay. 



As we descended the St. Johns River, the water 

 scenery gradually enlarged and became more characteris- 

 tic. The wider volurae of water set back the forest to a 

 farther distance, and not only removed all question of 

 Indian bullets, but the change from the heavy woods to 

 the open vista made us freer in feelings and more rapid 

 in our motions. The boats moved faster, and vrind and 

 current in our flivor, with trolling lines astern for sea- 

 trout, and the negroes singing their Methodist air — 



" In a few day?, and a few days 

 "We're gwine to glory, 

 In a few days," 



we rapidly sped northward to our final destination and 

 the scenes of civilized life. 



One day wo passed an Indian canoe. Mike said the 

 paddler was an Indian, though he looked more like a 

 negro, and had a long talk Avith him. They used the 

 Indian language and we could not understand them. 



