eekly.

"Dem's um, Dan; you jus tell dis chile wot you wants done, and we's
gwine to do notin but do it," said Cyd.

"But we must have something to eat while we remain here," added Dan.

"Dat's so; niggers can't lib widout eatin."

"We can do as the Indians do--we can hunt and fish," suggested Dan.

"Sartin--plenty ob ducks and geese, pigeons and partridges."

"And we have fowling pieces, with plenty of powder and shot; but none of
us are hunters, and I'm afraid we shall not have very good luck in
shooting game."

It was decided that Dan and Quin should try their luck on the following
day; and having taken an early breakfast, they started in the bateau,
rowing down the bayou in the direction of the lake. Dan was provided
with a fowling piece, while Quin was to try his luck as a fisherman. The
former was landed at a convenient place, while the latter pushed off
into the deep waters of the lake, each to exercise his craft to the best
of his ability.

On the shore of the lake Dan saw an abundance of wild ducks; but they
were so very wild that he found a great deal of difficulty in getting
near enough to risk the expenditure of any portion of the precious
ammunition which was to last a year. He fired twice without injuring the
game, and began to think that he was never intended for a sportsman. The
third time he wounded a duck, but lost him. This was hopeful, and he
determined to persevere. At the next shot he actually bagged a brant,
and, what was better, he believed he had "got the hang" of the business,
so that he could hunt with some success.

We will not follow him through the trials and disappointments of a six
hours' tramp; but the result of his day's shooting was five ducks and
one goose, with which he was entirely satisfied. With the game in his
bag, he hastened back to the place where Quin had landed him in the
morning. The other sportsman had been waiting two hours for him, and had
been even more fortunate than his companion, having captured about a
dozen good-sized catfish. The result of the expedition was very
promising, and the food question appeared to be settled. With light
hearts they pulled back to the camp, as Dan had christened their
dwelling-place in the swamp.

"Where is Cyd?" asked Dan, as he hauled the boat through the dense
thicket which concealed the Isabel from the gaze of any outsiders.

"He is here on deck," replied Lily, with a troubled expression.
"Something ails him."

"What's