A NIGHT HUNT UP THE CUNGAMUNCK. 501 



midnight has crushed the world, the wide and mighty 

 world, into that little circle of light with its wizard shapes, 

 thronging above and around us all else is void nothing ! 

 nothing ! 



Ha ! close to my hand a little summer duck comes swim- 

 ming. That looks as if there were an outer world a 

 something beyond this wizzard chaos ! See it comes close in 

 our charmed circle it cannot get away. Its great black 

 eyes shine still, as if it were in a dream of dazzled splendors, 

 it does not see us, it moves as the sleep walker moves, round 

 and round, yet not away. There, I had nearly caught it 

 with my hand, but it glided like a beam-eyed shadow from 

 beneath my grasp. It seems as ghostly as all else here. 



Hark ! a splashing plunge in the deep marsh to our right, 

 that sounds like earth like a reality ! 



"Hist!" says George, in a whisper, "rise. up ! rise softly, 

 he stands there over the bushes see his eyes !" 



" Steady, George." I rise as carefully as my stiffened limbs 

 would permit, and now the mist-wreaths on an eddy of the 

 night-wind rise with me. Slowly ! slowly ! See the antlered 

 head above the cover and the shining eyes. A shrill, loud 

 whistle I fire as he bounds a heavy plunge a struggle in 

 the tossing covert and all is still ! 



"Youv'e got him! you got him that time, sir!" shouted 

 George, and the sound of his human voice broke the spell 

 that was upon me, as of a heavy vision, and with a long 

 breath of suppressed excitement, I plunge after him to 

 assist in dragging our prey to the boat. It was a fine buck, 

 and I had shot him between the eyes. Ah, that was a 

 moment of cruel exultation, but I will not tell you how I 

 triumphed at the blank looks of poor Piscator, when, as he 

 took his seat now in front, we discovered that the lights 

 were nearly exhausted, and that there would be little chance 

 for him to get a shot at all ! The candles soon gave out, 



