The night soon began to be heavily overcast, and as we entered below some high wood the darkness would have become palpable, had it not been for the fire-flies,—even darkness which might have been felt.
"I must heave to until I get my bat's eyes shipped, Mr Twig," said I—"I can't see an inch before my nose."
"Then send Flamingo ahead, my dear fellow, for if he sees the length of his we shall do—his proboscis is long enough to give us warning of any impediment."
"What a clear glowworm-coloured light some of these insects do give," quoth I: "See that one creeping up the handle of my whip—it comes along with its two tiny burners, like the lights in a distant carriage rolling towards you."
"Come, you must get on, though, since we have not room to pass—no time to study natural philosophy," said Twig; and I once more fanned my horse into a gentle trot, with very much the sensation of one running through an unknown sound in the night, without either chart or pilot.
After a little, I saw a cluster of red fire-flies, as I thought, before us. "Oh, come along, I see now famously."
"Oh massa, massa!"—Crack!—I had got entangled with a string of mules going to fetch a last turn of canes from the field; the red sparks that I had seen ahead having proceeded from the pipes in the mouths of the drivers. However there was no great damage done.
The rain now began to descend in torrents, with a roar like a cataract.—"What uncommonly pleasant weather," thought I. "Why, Mr Twig, you see I am a bad pilot—so, do you think you have room to pass me now? for, to say the truth, I don't think I can see a yard of the road, and you know I am an utter stranger here."
He could not pass, however, and at length I had to set Master Teemoty to lead the horse. Presently I heard a splash.
"Hilloa, cousin Teemoty! where have you got to?"