times causes a lethargy, during which the person bitten passes from
sleep to death. During the day these insects stop up their holes with
sand, and only come out in the night. A dark-red line runs down their
back, and they have flat heads. To struggle against these venomous
creatures was impossible; it would have been more easy to contend with a
pack of wolves, or any other wild beasts. The instinct of my dog
induced him to crawl close up to the fire, where he remained all night
so near to it that he nearly burned off his coat.

At daybreak I proposed to start off, to be at once free from the dangers
of the neighbourhood. But Jup observed, "No fear now, massa; de spiders
all gone to bed."

Such was found to be the case, as they are strictly nocturnal hunters,
and keep their holes closely shut during the day-time. We had therefore
no longer any fear of being bitten, and were able to take our breakfast
at our leisure. As soon as possible, however, after breakfast, we were
again on the move.

We had much the same description of country to pass through as on the
previous day--mostly open prairie, with pine-barrens and occasional
hummocks. I cannot describe each day of our journey. In the early
morning we were aroused half an hour before sunrise by a wonderful
chorus of birds and insects, the mocking-bird and cat-bird making the
greatest noise. At that time the inhabitants of the woods seemed to
awaken to active life as suddenly as day succeeds the night, and night
the day, in those Southern latitudes. The deep-sounding whoops of the
sand-hill cranes--the cries of herons, bitterns, and ibis--the gobbles
of turkeys--the confused quacking of flocks of ducks--the chattering of
pelicans--the melodious voices of thousands of song-birds--the hum of
millions of insects,--all combined to create a volume of sound which
effectually banished sleep. As the sun rose above the summits of the
trees, the various sounds gradually decreased, and during the heat of
mid-day all seemed hushed in the stillness of death. As evening
approached, once more the feathered songsters suddenly burst forth; then
for a short time there would be silence; when again, towards midnight,
the hootings and shrieks of numerous night-birds, and the more savage
cries and hideous voices of alligators, wolves, and ocelots, would break
our slumbers.

One evening we were nearly losing our black attendant, who not only had
proved himself an intelligent gu