Chapter X

Deep silence reigned o’er all the sable tide,
Broke only by the swarthy pilot’s oar;
Under the arching boughs the wanderers glide,
And the dark ripplings curl from shore to shore;
The startled wood-ducks ’neath the waters hide,
Or on fleet pinions through the branches soar;
Whilst overhead the rattling boughs, at times,
Tell where the streaked raccoon or wild cat climbs.