up to such excitement that he seemed to feel the ghosts of rabbits
slain--for he could smell no live ones--hovering near him:--

"I raise my gun whar de rabbit run--
Ketch him, Tiger, ketch him!
En de rabbit say:
'Gimme time ter pray,
Fer I ain't got long fer to stay, to stay!'
Oh, ketch him, Tiger, ketch him!

"Ketch him, oh, ketch him!
Run ter de place en fetch him!
De bell done chime
Fer de breakfast time--
Oh, ketch him, Tiger, ketch him!"

"If there are any more verses, Uncle Eb, keep them until we've had
supper, or breakfast, or whatever you like to call a meal at this
unearthly hour. I'm so hungry that I could chew nails!" cried Cyrus,
springing from behind the bushes, and reaching the, camp-fire with a few
strides, Neal following him.

"Sakes alive! yonkers; is dat you?" cried the darkey, uprearing his
gray figure. "I'se mighty glad to see you back. Whar's yer meat? Left it
in de canoe mebbe? De buck too big to drag 'long to camp--eh?"

There was a wicked rolling of Uncle Eb's eyes while he spoke. Evidently
from the looks of the sportsmen he guessed immediately what had been the
result of their excursion.