ce and eternity,
and to gaze upon other worlds, and other beings equally the object of
the Great Creator's care; but her mortal wing soon droops and tires,
and she is fain to nestle home again to her Saviour's arms, with the
thought, "I am my Beloved's, and He is mine." That is the only safe
beginning and end of all speculation. It was very solemn and beautiful,
that long dark night,--a pause amid the bustle of every day cares and
duties,--hours in which one takes counsel with one's own heart, and is
still.

Midnight had come and gone, when the sputter and snap of striking
a match, which sounded almost like a pistol shot amid the profound
silence, told me that one of the sportsmen had been successful. I got
up as softly as possible, wrapped my damp shawl round my still damper
shoulders, and, fastening the flax-stick securely in the ground, stole
along the bank of the creek towards the place where a blazing tussock,
serving as a torch, showed the successful eel-fisher struggling with
his prize. Through the gloom I saw another weird-looking figure running
silently in the same direction; for the fact was, we were all so cramped
and cold, and, weary of sitting waiting for bites which never came, that
we hailed with delight a break in the monotony of our watch. It did
not matter now how much noise we made (within moderate limits), for
the peace of that portion of the creek was destroyed for the night.
Half-a-dozen eels must have banded themselves together, and made a
sudden and furious dash at the worsted ball, which Mr. U---- had been
dangling in front of their mud hall-door for the last two hours. Just as
he had intended, their long sharp teeth became entangled in the worsted
loops, and although he declared some had broken away and escaped, three
or four good-sized ones remained, struggling frantically.

It would have been almost impossible for one man to lift such a weight
straight out of the water by a string; and as we came up and saw Mr.
U----'s agitated face in the fantastic flickering light of the
blazing tussock, which he had set on fire as a signal of distress, I
involuntarily thought of the old Joe Miller about the Tartar: "Why don't
you let him go?" "Because he has caught _me._" It looked just like that.
The furious splashing in the water below, and Mr. U---- grasping his
line with desperate valour, but being gradually drawn nearer to the
edge of the steep bank each instant. "Keep up a good light, but not too
m