The weekly echo. [volume] (Lake Charles, Parish of Calcasieu, La.) 1868-1876, 1876-03-23

him 2? Even If j leave him, to scour the
woods, all he will have to do will be to
sit quietly on his horse in one spot until
/ return"
His wife did not answer, but she
sighed deeply as she returned to her
work.
She was half ashamed Of her own fears.
Even when her boy returned, flushed,
delighted, with little Edmond at his
heels, she could not smile at him. She
was called upon to admire the pony, to
see what q great bag of pine knots papa
had cut up for the fre-pan.
At dark the preparations were COM
pleted, and the hunters set out, Pierre
Estrin leading the way with a long
handled pan, full of blazing pine, over
one shoulder. Jacques and Edmond, on
the same pony, trotted after him, and the
mother at the window could hear her
boys glad voice making the silent woods
ring with his favorite song, and the little
negro sWelllng Jne cnOrus Or
$50 gay, so gay"
The mist el4sed heavily upon their
path. The bright flame from the fire.
pan threw a wild, weird light on the
great trees, which stood like shrouded
giants on each side of them.
With the rising of the wind, the fog |
rose, and when it Iulled, would settle
down again, and SO, alternately, the
night was obscure and lightened. The
light, however, was not from the heavens,
for that was overcast with clouds, but a
kind of phosphorescent CLEAN from de-
cayed logs and the surface of stagnant
pools.
The fre-pan, however, threw bright
circle of light around, and Pierre Estrin
had fastened the long-handled pan to his
saddle in a manner known to hunters
who scOur the woods without compan-
ions.
1t was altogether an improbable hunt.
Cows and calves would come staring at
the light, but not deer. The fog was
settling down into a misty drizzle, and
Pierre began to get very impatient, for /
he knew it was not far from midnight.
''See here, Jacques" he said, I'm !
yoing down into Brule swamp. We are .
ust on its edge now. Pm sure all the
leer are there tonight in the thickets. /
The swamp is too full of ruts, and holes {
f soft mud, for you to get through on
our little pony. I'm going to station t
GU here under this big gum tree, which t
yill keep the drizzle off; and don't stir &
rom it, or I'll lose you; and be perfect.
y quiet. You are not afraid to be left, !
re your
Atraidr why, Jacques hOOted at {
he idea. But the child was sleepy and {
ired, and very hungry, and wanted to
ct back to mamma, and the nice hot
jumbo she would have ready for them.
Are you going to stay long? he
sked, dOlefully. !,
Not more than a quarter of an hour; =
erhaps not that long" =
Jacques gave a little tired sigh, as his
lther moved of, whispered few words :,
} his nodding companion, and then his y
urly head sunk down on the patient :,
ony's neck, and the boy was fast =;
sleep. .
1t is probable the little negro followed y
is example, and the pony, feeling the :, y
Elm lOosened, began cropping the grass, -
ioving slowly in the direction Pierre u 4
str in had taken. 81
Estrin, in the meantime, pursued his II
ray with no success. The deer had evil 81
entity gone too deep in the coverts for d
i'm to find them. He was an impatient p
ian, and the foggy drizzle, which grew II
Kicker, combined with his own loss of u
smper to make him lose the way. As u
unters say, he was turned round" e'
nd wandered aimlessly about, feeling IL
imself lost. AT last he came to an oak VI
hich he knew to be not a mile from the Ia
Pening. A little back, enveloped in Z.
re thick vapors, shone pair of eyes.
" Aha !" thought Pierre, exultingly;
behold my game!"
He raised his gun, took deliberate aim, th
ID, " bangl bang" went off both bar hs
Is almost simultaneously. bl