CHAPTEK IX. 



THE STILL HUNT. 



L'Aurore paraissait a peine, 

 Quand dans la brume a 1'horizon 

 Je l'ai vu rentrant de la plaine 

 Tout charge de sa venaison. 

 Redressant sa large empaumure 

 II s'est arrOtt'; par trois fois 

 Puis il a longe la bordure 

 Ecoutant l'eau tomber sous bois. 



As the first light struggled through the clouds and the tassels of 

 the pines overhead, Mike and I alone, with our breakfasts in our 

 hands, were winding our way through the forest. 



We trudged on as best we might over the rolling knolls of 

 sand, laced by the long, tough roots of the palmetto, across hollows 

 choked with grass and vines, and down and up the quaggy sloughs 

 that the waters had made while seeking their level in the Ouithla- 

 couchee. The tough little ponies scampered along on the level 

 land, and where it was muddy Mike would slide to his feet and 

 cheer them on with whoop and hulloa, until they ran up the banks 

 as fast as they jumped down. The rain had ceased, yet it was not 

 clear, and the drops hung on all the bushes, or showered down on 

 us from above as we struck the young timber. 



Having reached a point of land in the bend of the river, the 

 ponies were unsaddled, their halters were tied to their knees so 

 that they could not run, though giving them ample liberty to 

 graze, and left behind with an injunction to " Stay thar, yer sarcy 

 critters." 



Again the word was forward. Mike led the way on a long 

 stride, his rifle lying in the hollow of his left arm, and his body 

 bending and oscillating to conform to the inequalities of the 

 ground. As he walked he turned hither and thither, taking in 



