30 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 
most as impenetrable asa mountain. Here, in this soli- 
tude, where the noon-day sun never penetrates, myriads 
of birds, with the instinct of safety, roost at night; 
and at the dawn of day for awhile darken the air as 
they seck their haunts—their manure deadening like a 
a fire, for acres around, the vegetation, so long have they 
possessed the solitude. 
Amid this mass of cane and vine, the black bear 
retire for winter quarters, where they pass the season, 
if not disturbed, in the insensibility of sleep, and yet 
come out in the spring as fat as when they commenced 
their long nap. 
The forest, the waste, and the dangers of the cane- 
brake, but add to the excitement of the Arkansas hunter ; 
he conquers them all, and makes them subservient to 
his pursuits. Familiar with these scenes, they to him 
possess no sentiment; he builds his log cabin in a clear- 
ing made by his own hands, amid the surrounding gran- 
deur, and it looks like a gypsy hut among the ruins of 
a Gothic cathedral. The noblest trees to him are only 
valuable for fence-rails; and the cane-brake is ‘an in- 
fernal dark hole,” where you can “see sights,” “ catch 
bear,” and get a “fish pole,” ranging in size from a 
“nenny whistle to that of a young stove pipe.” 
The undoubted hero of Satan’s Summer Retreat, is 
old Bob Herring: he has a character that would puzzle 
three hundred metaphysicians consecutively. For, while 
he is as bold as a lion, he is superstitious as an Indian. 
