undering up to his flanks in the mud. Though it
was but the hour of noon, it more resembled night, or the late gloaming
of twilight--so dark were the shadows under this umbrageous wood. As if
to strengthen the illusion, I could hear the cry of the bittern, and the
screech of the owl, echoing through the aisles of the forest--sounds
elsewhere suggestive of night and darkness. Now and then, light shone
upon the path--the light that indicates an opening in the forest; but it
was not that of a friendly clearing. Only the break caused by some
dismal lagoon, amidst whose dank stagnant waters even the cypress cannot
grow--the habitat of black water-snakes and mud-turtles--of cranes,
herons, and _Qua-birds_. Hundreds of these I saw perched upon the
rotting half-submerged trunks--upon the cypress "knees" that rose like
brown obelisks around the edge of the water; or winged their slow flight
through the murky gloom, and filling the air with their deafening
screams. On both sides of the trace towered gigantic trees, flanked at
their bases with huge projections, that appeared like the battlements of
a fortress, these singular protuberances rose far above the height of my
horse--radiating from the trunks on every side, and often causing the
path to take a circuitous direction. In the deep gloom, the track would
have been difficult to follow, but for an occasional blaze appearing
upon the smooth bark of the sycamores.

The scene was by no means suggestive of pleasant reflections--the less
so, since I had ascertained, from my host of yesternight, that the
greater portion of Section Number 9 was of just such a character; and
that there was scarcely a spot upon it fit for a "homestead," except the
one already occupied! "Such an `encumbrance' on my estate," reflected
I, "is worse than the _heaviest mortgage_;" and I should have been
willing at that moment to part with the timber at a very "low
valuation." But I well knew the value of such a commodity. On the
Thames or the Mersey, a mine of wealth--on Mud Creek, it would not have
been taken as a gift! My spirits fell as I rode forward--partly
influenced by the sombre scenes through which I was passing--partly by
the natural reaction which ever follows the hour of sweet enjoyment--and
partly, no doubt, from some unpleasant presentiments that were once more
shaping themselves in my mind.

Up to this time, I had scarcely given thought to my errand, or its
object. First the gay h