they passed in dark troops upwards into the ever-deepening dusk.

Then out of the gloom came a Ding Dong, like the low, solemn beat of
a bell. Jean crossed himself and exclaimed,

"Mon Dieu! What is that Monsieur?"

"What, afraid Jean? That is no toll for a lost soul, but the crying
of the dismal bell bird."

"I never heard it before Mon Chef."

"And may never hear it again. It lives only in the most doleful and
solitary swamps, and I doubt if there is another place in all the
wide territories save here, where you may hear its voice."

It had now grown so dark that the horses could only tread their way
by instinct, and at every noise or cry that came from the swamp,
Jeans' blood shivered in his veins. He had no idea where his master
was leading him, and had refrained from 'asking all along, though the
query hung constantly upon his tongue. Then a pair of noiseless wings
brushed his cheek, paused, and hovered about his head; while two red
eyes glared at him.

"In the name of God what is it?" he screamed, smiting the creature
with the handle of his whip. "Where are you leading me Mon Chef?"

"Peace Jean, I did not believe that you were such an arrant coward.
You shall soon see where I go. It is seldom that man is seen or heard
in this region, and the strange creatures marvel. That was one of the