much fatigued, but now they were all fire and impatience.

"It is impossible to remain here," said Carleton.

"But whither shall we go?"

"Wherever our horses choose to take us."

We untied the animals and sprang upon them. But scarcely were we in the
saddle when they started off at a pace as frantic as if a pack of wolves
had been at their heels; and taking the direction of the creek, which
ran between the palmetto plantation and a cypress wood, continued along
its banks at the same wild gallop. As we advanced, the creek began to
widen; in place of palmettos, clumps of marsh reeds, and rushes showed
themselves here and there. An unearthly stillness prevailed, only broken
now and then by the cry of a wild-goose; and even that appeared strange
and unnatural in its sound.

"What can be the meaning of this?" cried Carleton. "I am burning with
heat, and yet I have not the slightest moisture on my skin. All these
signs are incomprehensible. For God's sake, sound the horn again."

I did so, but this time the sound seemed to be forced back through the
horn, and to die away upon my lips. The air was so hot and parching,
that our horses' coats, which a short time previous had been dripping
with sweat, were now perfectly dry, and the hair plastered upon them;
the animals' tongues hung out of their mouths, and they seemed panting
for cooler air. "Look yonder!" cried Carleton, and he pointed to the
line of the horizon, which had hitherto been of grey, lead-coloured
vapour. It was now becoming reddish in the south-west quarter, and the