Page:Rowland--In the shadow.djvu/295

 wailed hollow with amphorous tone and lost itself between the empty aisles.

Pawing, pushing, clutching slippery trunks, hanging boughs, torn on scapheus thorn trees, scooping at the heavy water which never splashed, the object emerged into an open space; the black wall of the cypress swamp was all about. Above the canopy of ambient mist, in the world of light and motion, there was a moon which gave a background to the gaunt, fantastic treetops with their masses of mistletoe. A faint draught of air, humid, foul, stirred the murky atmosphere.

In the pale opacity of the open space, the object gathered form and outline; the form of a negro of uncouth proportions forcing through the stagnant water a bateau of primitive design. He knelt in the stern; his massive shoulders heaved as the long arms swept the paddle in a silent powerful stroke or reached for a handful of floating moss. He forced the cumbersome craft in and out through the open water.

In front of him there lay a shapeless mass.

As they emerged from the shadow the anæmic moonlight was reflected wanly from the contours of this shapeless thing; it brought out in turn a sharply flexed knee, a glistening shoulder, a row of teeth, opalescent eyeballs.

From the edge of the swamp there came the wailing cry of a whip-poor-will. The droning breath of insect orchestra rose higher and higher in a humming diapason. Undefined noises welled from far beneath the bottom of the marsh. There came whisperings, sobbings, husky-throated breathings, stifled groans; sounds coming not from man nor beast, air nor water; they were the subtle 285