Soothing Rolfe, Earth gradually drew him into conversation, and finding that his fever was leaving him, obtained his consent to recommence their journey on the following day. Making short stages, his health began to improve, and they wound their way along the banks of the rivulet on which they had rested. The close of evening found them at a point, where the lands sinking, became flat, and the little stream, unconfined by its banks, spread over their surface, and lingering, coursed slowly away in many rills, which parted but to meet again at a place not far remote. The marshy ground over which the hunters would have to travel in pursuing the direct line of their journey, was, with Rolfe, as he was just recovering, an objection to proceeding farther; and he proposed to Earth to stay where they were until morning should enable them to compass the difficulty. Earth readily consented, and selecting a dry and agreeable spot, they seated themselves, and after a few moments, unloosing his wallet, he emptied out the remains of his breakfast, which served them for supper. Night had advanced an hour or two, and the hunters were still awake, when a flickering flame shooting up, threw abroad its glare, and often changed its position. It was soon observed, and at once gave rise to excitement and to speculation. “What can it be,” said Earth, “is it a spirit?” He had scarcely spoken when another light began to dance in the air, then a third, and a fourth, flitting about, and changing position with the rapidity of thought. “A four handed reel, by the powers above! Rolfe, Rolfe, it is all over,” and Earth, crouching upon the ground, sank overpowered with fear. “What dost thou fear,” said Rolfe? “Those spirits,” said Earth. “Hush, Rolfe; hush, or let us fly.” “Nonsense,” said Rolfe, “they are merely ‘_ignes fatui_.’” “Fat what, Rolfe?” “Fat nothing;—they are what are termed grave lights, or _jacks with their lanterns_, produced in some measure by the decomposition of the dead animal matter.” “No,” Rolfe, “it cannot be, see how they cross over, and leap up, and dart across, and then fly away;—they must be troubled spirits.” “Earth, you are mistaken; I have seen them often before, and I assure you I have given the correct solution.” “Now, Rolfe, tell me, is it true? You know I can face the living, but I cannot bear to meet the dead.” “It is, I assure you. Have you never, while hunting, seen a _jack-a-lantern_?” “A _jack-a-lantern!_ yes, often; although I don't even like _them_ much.” “Well, these are the same.” “Oh, no.” “Indeed they are.” “Well, now, Rolfe, if you have any respect for me, hereafter call things by their proper names; if you had said they were _jack-a-lanterns_, I would have known at once what they were; but you said something about _knees fat_, and I took it for granted at once that they were spirits; although I might have known, if I had thought, that _jack-a-lanterns_ were _greasy_.”