stroke of the paddle now sent us deeper and deeper into the heart of the swamp. Suddenly, Moseley, who was ahead, stopped paddling and peered through the matted underbrush.
"What is it?" I asked.
"A cow and a calf! What can they be doing here in the middle of the swamp? "
There they were, sure enough; a red and white pair. They heard our voices, stopped chewing, stared a moment, then turned and picked their way into the jungle.
A few minutes later the lock came in sight, and we saw two men waving their hats. One was the man in Mr. Stewart's boat with our traps, and the other was "Abeham" (not Abraham), who was to be our guide, philosopher, and friend on the lake. Abeham had been sent from Suffolk to meet us by Mr. Rudolph A. King of Washington, a gentleman deeply interested in the Dismal Swamp, of whom I shall have more to say by and by.
"What are that cow and calf doing in the swamp?" was our first question.
"Wild cattle, sah," said Abeham.
"Are there wild cattle in the swamp? "
"Yes, hund'eds and hund'eds of wild cattle; I saw lots of 'em dis mawnin'. Yo' ought to have shot dat calf; we'll want him to-morrow."
