On arriving at the scene of my late adventure, a turn was given to my thoughts. It had been a scene of triumph, and deserved commemoration. The body of the panther lay across the path. His shining skin was a trophy not to be despised; and, dismounting on the spot, with my hunting-knife I secured it. I could point to it with pride--as the first spoil obtained in my new hunting-field; but I should prize it still more, as the memento of a far sweeter sentiment. In a few minutes, it was folded up, and strapped over the cantle of my saddle; and, with this odd addition to my equipage, I once more plunged into the forest-path. For the next mile, the trace led through heavy bottom-timber, such as we had traversed, after leaving the settlement of Swampville. The black earth, of alluvial origin, was covered deeply with decayed vegetation; and the track of horses and cattle had converted the path into mud. At intervals, it was intersected by embayments of wet morass--the projecting arms of a great swamp, that appeared to run parallel with the creek. Through these, my horse, unused to such footing, passed with difficulty--often floundering up to his flanks in the mud. Though it was but the hour of noon, it more resembled night, or the late gloaming of twilight--so dark were the shadows under this umbrageous wood. As if to strengthen the illusion, I could hear the cry of the bittern, and the screech of the owl, echoing through the aisles of the forest--sounds elsewhere suggestive of night and darkness. Now and then, light shone upon the path--the light that indicates an opening in the forest; but it was not that of a friendly clearing. Only the break caused by some dismal lagoon, amidst whose dank stagnant waters even the cypress cannot grow--the habitat of black water-snakes and mud-turtles--of cranes, herons, and _Qua-birds_. Hundreds of these I saw perched upon the rotting half-submerged trunks--upon the cypress "knees" that rose like brown obelisks around the edge of the water; or winged their slow flight through the murky gloom, and filling the air with their deafening screams. On both sides of the trace towered gigantic trees, flanked at their bases with huge projections, that appeared like the battlements of a fortress, these singular protuberances rose far above the height of my horse--radiating from the trunks on every side, and often causing the path to take a circuitous direction. In the deep gloom, the track would have been difficult to follow, but for an occasional blaze appearing upon the smooth bark of the sycamores.