mp rolled over upon his face. This gave me a good opportunity to
titillate both sides of his neck, and he sprang round again.

"Bodder!" I heard him mutter; but I persevered, making the twig play
well about him.

"Bodder de fly!" he cried, viciously; but the twig tickled away, and
Pomp's eyes were so tightly closed that he contented himself with
twisting and rubbing himself.

"Wait I get up, I mash all de ole fly eberywhere," he muttered.

Tickle--tickle--tickle.

_Slip slap_. Pomp's hands delivered a couple of blows on his bare skin.

Tickle--tickle--tickle.

"You no like me come mash you, eh?"

Tickle--tickle--tickle.

"Yah! You great ugly skeeter, you leave lil nigger go sleep."

"_Buzz_--_buzz_--_hum_." Tickle--tickle--tickle. I made as good an
imitation as I could of a gnat's hum, and kept up the tickling till he
made two or three vicious lounges out at where I stood in the darkness,
and this time he got hold of the twig.

"Eh?" he exclaimed. "Dat not skeeter fly. Dat you, fader? You let lil
nigger go sleep. Keep a 'tick 'till."

"Eh? Who dat? Ah, yah! It you, Mass' George. I know all de time."

"No, you didn't, old sleepy head."

"Eh? Well, what head for at night but sleep um? You want Pomp go after
'coon?"

"No; look here, Pomp; we're to go and try to find the boat in the
morning. Come and call me as soon as it's day."

"Eh? Why not go now, Mass' George?"

"No, no; I want to go and have a good sleep first. Mind, as soon as
it's light; I'll take the gun."

"I call you, Mass' George, widout come an' ticklum wif lil 'tick, ha--
ha--ha! I know."

"Good-night."

"Good-night, Mass' George; I come and climb up your window; and you look
out."

"I will," I said to myself as I went away, said good-night to Hannibal,
and hurried back to bed, but not till I had carefully fastened my window
ajar, so that Pomp could not get it open in the morning. And there I
was, too much excited by the ideas of the trip to get to sleep. For as
I lay there I could picture the little river winding in and out among
the great trees of the primeval forest, and see it here black as night
flowing sluggishly beneath the drooping moss-hung trees, there dancing
in the sunshine that rained down from above, and then on and on in
amongst the mysterious shades where in all probability the foot of man
had never trod.

"Oh," I said to myself at last, as I lay listening to the monotonous
piping insect hum,