210 



WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



A hearty meal gave us contentment, and a long pull to land 

 delighted the eye as we rowed over fields where 



" The sea-flag streams through the silent water, 

 And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen 

 To blush like a banner bathed in slaughter. " 



Negro songs, and the setting sun and rising moon, and many a tale 

 and joke, made the day memorable, but the beautiful tortoise shell 

 that was to adorn our camp and serve as a punch bowl was never 

 captured. 



