THE COMMODORE AND CREW. 212 


out between us upon a sheet of birch bark, while waiting a 
moment to watch the small grains of heathenish production in 
the black kettle. The blaze rises from the centre of the small 
fire and is directly under the kettle. Soon the music starts, 
all around the circular wall of their dance hall; low at the 
first, but ever increasing, and we soon see among them a 
slight agitation, then they rise up and are passing all about 
and joining for the furious dance. Now commence their way- 
ing, waltzing motions, and quickly then the jolly dance 
begins. With all turning, whirling, sinking, rising, and 
leaping, and when the music is at its highest, the whole 
pandemonium becomes a perfect maelstrom, rising in the 
cloud of hot steam, and—our luncheon is ready. 
Extinguishing the fire, we are again ready for the slow, 
creeping, homeward step. The Commodore a little in ad- 
vance, as the road slightly rises and winds around the lower 
part of the higher land, stops quickly, drops upon his knee 
behind the trees, looks around and gives a slight upward mo- 
tion of his head, which electrifies the crew, and he is soon 
down beside him. Looking far ahead down slightly descend- 
ing ground, a young buck is quietly feeding and slowly walk- 
ing our way with the wind behind him. 
«No need to hurry.” 
*¢ Only lie low.” 
In a moment he steps into the old road and is feeding, head 
down, toward us; soon he sees a choice bite beside the road 
and turns half round exposing his shoulders clean to view ; 
each one is holding for him, each one steadying a rifle, on 
opposite sides of the same large tree, and one, two, three! 
as usual but one report only, then four or five wild leaps down 
the road, with his tail hugged close down, and one last leap 
to one side, off the road and he is down. We sit still ona 
