His voice again fell upon my ear--this time in a more cheerful tone. It was simply to say, that I "might shortly expect a better road--we were approaching a `gleed;' beyont that the trace war wider, an' we might ride thegither again." We were just entering the glade, as he finished speaking--an opening in the woods of limited extent. The contrast between it and the dark forest-path we had traversed was striking--as the change itself was pleasant. It was like emerging suddenly from darkness into daylight: for the full moon, now soaring high above the spray of the forest, filled the glade with the ample effulgence of her light. The dew-besprinkled flowers were sparkling like gems; and, even though it was night, their exquisite aroma had reached us afar off in the forest. There was not a breath of air stirring; and the unruffled leaves presented the sheen of shining metal. Under the clear moonlight, I could distinguish the varied hues of the frondage--that of the red maple from the scarlet sumacs and sassafras laurels; and these again, from the dark-green of the Carolina bay-trees, and the silvery foliage of the _Magnolia glauca_. Even before entering the glade, this magnificent panorama had burst upon my sight--from a little embayment that formed the _debouchure_ of the path--and I had drawn bridle, in order for a moment to enjoy its contemplation. The young hunter was still the length of his horse in advance of me; and I was about requesting him to pull up; but before I could give utterance to the words, I saw him make halt of himself. This, however, was done in so awkward and hurried a manner, that I at once turned from gazing upon the scene, and fixed my eyes upon my companion. As if by an involuntary effort, he had drawn his horse almost upon his haunches: and was now stiffly seated in the saddle, with blanched cheeks and eyes sparkling in their sockets--as if some object of terror was before him! I did not ask for an explanation. I knew that the object that so strangely affected him must be visible--though not from the point where I had halted. A touch of the spur brought my horse alongside his, and gave me a view of the whole surface of the glade. I looked in the direction indicated by the attitude of the hunter: for--apparently paralysed by some terrible surprise--he had neither pointed nor spoken. A little to the right of the path, I beheld a white object lying along the ground--a dead tree, whose barkless trunk and smooth naked branches gleamed under the moonlight with the whiteness of a blanched skeleton. In front of this, and a pace or two from it, was a dark form, upright and human-like. Favoured by the clear light of the moon, I had no difficulty in distinguishing the form to be that of a woman. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. SU-WA-NEE.