I50 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
him. The night was dark, as the moon had not then 
risen, but it was clear. When the old man learned 
that we were willing to accompany him he seemed 
content; but whether joy or sadness overspread his 
features, it was all one with the expression of them, 
so sunken and wrinkled were they. The boys pre- 
pared torches and collected our luggagé, and then we 
started off. The old Indian struck a brisker gait than 
we had supposed him capable of, and we followed by 
the light of the torches. 
There is a weird solemnity about a night march in 
a great forest. On either side of you is a wall of inky 
blackness; before, behind, the same enclosing gloom, 
against which the torches send a feeble glare. By 
the time we had reached the high woods, where the 
trees were completely enveloped in masses of vines, 
our surroundings assumed an aspect wild and terrible. 
That hanging liane, twisted and contorted, took the 
shape of a serpent ready to dart at us as we passed. 
The flickering play of the light upon the leaves of 
trees and parasites, alternately bringing to view and 
leaving in shade strange forms, gave to everything a 
startlingly living appearance. It was as if all had 
been changed into animated beings, especially nox- 
ious insects, like scorpions and spiders, which, one 
and all, seemed crawling in our direction. 
At last we came into a more open forest, a densely 
wooded plateau, the home of the wild hog and the 
resort of runaway slaves in olden time. Very few, 
even of the hunters, visited these dark woods we were 
now traversing. We penetrated the dense shade, fol- 
lowing now our guide, for the boys were wholly at 
loss. Suddenly there boomed through the forest a 
