THE NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 79 



■whites of his eyes benignantly over the turmoil of the scene 

 — was to us the higher prototype of Bose. He, vrith the 

 proper slowness of dignity, accepts the greet of our patting 

 caresses, with a formal wagging of the tail, which seems to 

 say — " 0, I am used to this !" while, when the young dogs 

 leap upon him with obstreperous fawnings, he will correct 

 them into propriety with stately snai'ling. They knew him 

 for their leader ! — they should be more respectful ! 



Now old Sambo becomes patronizing to us, as is necessary 

 and proper in our new relations ! From his official posi- 

 tion of commander-in-chief, he soon reduces the chaos around 

 us into something like subjection, and then in a little time 

 comes forth the form of our night's march. A few stout 

 young men who have obeyed his summons have gathered 

 around him from the different huts of the Quarter — some with 

 axes, and others with torches of pine and bark. The dogs 

 become more restless, and we more excited, as these indices 

 of immediate action appear. 



Now, with a long blast from the cow's-horn of Sambo, and 

 a deafening clamor of all sizes, high and low — from men, 

 women, children and dogs, we take up the line of march 

 for the woods. Sambo leads, of course. We are soon trail- 

 ing after him in single file, led by the glimmer of the torches 

 far ahead. 



Now the open ground of the plantation has been passed, 

 and as we approach the deep gloom of the bordering forest — 



" Those perplexed woods, 

 The nodding horror of whose shady brows 

 Thi'eats the forlorn and wandering passenger" — 



even the yelpings of the excited dogs cease to be heard, and 

 they dash on into the darkness as if they were going to work 

 — while we with our joyous chattering subsided into silence, 

 enter these " long-drawn aisles" with a sort of shiver ;• the 

 torches showing, as we pass in a dim light, the trees — their 



