High above all, and central, the "Marling-spike" lifted its finger.

Upon the hillsides, small groups of bullocks were seen; some quietly browsing; others slowly winding into the valleys.
We went on, directing our course for a slope of these hills, a mile or two further, where the nearest bullocks were seen.
We were cautious in keeping to the windward of them; their sense of smell and hearing being, like those of all wild creatures, exceedingly acute.
As there was no knowing that we might not surprise some other kind of game in the coverts through which we were passing, we crept along warily.
The wild hogs of the island are uncommonly fierce; and as they often attack the natives, I could not help following Tonoi's example of once in a while peeping in under the foliage.

Frequent retrospective glances also served to assure me that our retreat was not cut off.
As we rounded a clump of bushes, a noise behind them, like the crackling of dry branches, broke the stillness.

In an instant, Tonoi's hand was on a bough, ready for a spring, and Zeke's finger touched the trigger of his piece.

Again the stillness was broken; and thinking it high time to get ready, I brought my musket to my shoulder.
"Look sharp!" cried the Yankee; and dropping on one knee, he brushed the twigs aside.