and, pressing through this, I stood inside the hollow tree.

We had reached our destination--I was in the _lair of the runaway_!

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE TREE-CAVERN.

The interior was dark, and it was some time before I could distinguish
any object. Presently my eyes became accustomed to the sombre light,
and I was enabled to trace the outlines of this singular tree-cavern.

Its dimensions somewhat astonished me. A dozen men could have been
accommodated in it, and there was ample room for that number either
sitting or standing. In fact, the whole pyramidal mass which supported
the tree was nothing more than a thin shell, all the heart having
perished by decay. The floor, by the falling of this _debris_ of rotten
wood, was raised above the level of the water, and felt firm and dry
underfoot. Near its centre I could perceive the ashes and half-burnt
embers of an extinct fire; and along one side was strewed a thick
covering of dry _tillandsia_, that had evidently been used as a bed. An
old blanket lying upon the moss gave further testimony that this was its
purpose.

There was no furniture. A rude block,--a cypress knee that had been
carried there--formed, the only substitute for a chair, and there was
nothing to serve for a table. He who had made this singular cave his
residence required no luxuries to sustain him. Necessaries, however, he
had provided. As my eyes grew more accustomed to the light, I could
make out a number of objects I had not at first seen. An earthen
cooking-pot, a large water gourd, a tin cup, an old axe, some
fishing-tackle, and one or two coarse rags of clothing. What interested
me more than all these was the sight of several articles that were
_eatable_. There was a good-sized "chunk" of cooked pork, a gigantic
"pone" of corn-bread, several boiled ears of maize, and the better half
of a roast fowl. All these lay together upon a large wooden dish,
rudely carved from the wood of the tulip-tree--of such a fashion as I
had often observed about the cabins of the negro quarter. Beside this
dish lay several immense egg-shaped bodies of dark-green colour, with
other smaller ones of a yellow hue. These were water and musk melons,--
not a bad prospect for a dessert.

I had made this reconnoissance while my companion was engaged in
fastening his pirogue to the tree. I had finished my survey as he
entered.

"Now, mass'," said he, "dis am ole Gabe's nest; de dam man-hunter no