and twined with variegated vines and flowers, and deadly,
damp fungi, that it was like some gorgeous dais-seat. Behind them and
beside them was the darkness of the cypress groves. Before them extended
a smooth floor, a wide level region, carpeted in the most vivid verdure
and sheeted with the sunshine, an immense bed of softest moss, underlaid
with black bog, quaking at every step, and shaking a thousand diamonds
into the light. Scarcely anything stirred through all the stretch; at
some runnel along its nearer margin, where upon one side the more broken
swamp recommenced, a rosy flamingo stood and fished, and, still remoter,
the melancholy note of a bird tolled its refrain, answered by an echoing
voice from some yet inner depth of forest far away. Save for this, the
silence was as intense as the vastness and color of the scene, till it
opened and resolved itself into one broad insect hum. The children took
a couple of steps forward, under their feet the elastic sod sank and
rose with a spurt of silver jets; they sprang back to their seats, and
the shading tree above shook down a shining shower in rillets of silver
rain. They remained for a minute, then, resting there. Singularly
enough, Longfer Hill, which had previously been upon their left, now
rose far away upon the right. When at length they comprehended its
apparition, they looked at one another in complete bewilderment. Miss
Emma began to cry; but Flor took it as only a fresh complication of this
world, that was becoming for her feet a maze of intricacy.

"We must go back," said Miss Emma, at last. "I'm sure, if I'd
known----Of course we never can cross here. The very spoonbill wades.
Oh, why didn't----Well, there's no blame to you, Floss. I've nobody to
thank but myself; that's a comfort."

"Lors, Miss Emma, it's my fault altogeder. I should n' neber told ye.
An' as for gwine back, it's jus' as bad as torrer."

"We can't stay here all night! Oh, I'm right tired out! If I could lie
down"----

"'Twouldn' do no way, Miss Emma," answered Flor, in a fright for her
friend, as a quick, poisonous-looking lizard slid along the log, like a
streak of light, in the wake of a spider which was one blotch of scarlet
venom.

Far ahead, the strong sun, piercing the marsh, drew up a vapor, that,
blue as any distant haze in one part and lint-white in another, made
itself aslant into low, delicious, broken prisms, melting all between.
This, more than anything else, told the ext