CHAPTER XV.

"Behold us mounted once again,"--and immediately after leaving this gentleman's plantation, we again passed into a dense forest and found a muddy path. In about six miles we found some sandy land and pine timber, and here we left what is called the Mississippi swamp. We soon came to the outlet of the lake, which we had to ford. The water was deep, and the shore deep mud. It was a difficult job to make a horse wallow through. We were told that a horse got swamped and died in the mud, a few feet from the spot where we crossed.

We came to the banks of Washita river, followed it down three miles, and crossed over to Harrisonburg. The town is built on a level plain on the west bank of the river; but it contains not more than twenty houses. This river empties into Red River, and is navigable for steamboats a long distance above the village. It is forty-two miles west of Natchez. On this river are the lands where the famous Aaron Burr _talked_ of establishing a colony; but unless the land above and below is better than in this region, it might not have been very flourishing. The soil is too sandy and poor.

We rode twenty-five miles over a rolling sandy country, generally covered with pine woods; and stopped at night with a gentleman who had been one of Burr's party. He did not seem inclined to say much of that ill-fated expedition. Here we were kindly treated, and fared well. He had been there nineteen years; had cleared a large plantation; raised cotton, corn and cattle; had eight or ten negroes, and possessed the necessaries of life in abundance. But he still lived in a log house, without a glass window in it. I asked him, why he did not have windows. He said, the house was well enough; if the hole cut for a window did not make it light enough, he opened the door. It was not just such a house as I should be contented in, for nineteen years, and possessing the wealth he had.--It, however, was to his taste; and for aught I could see, he was as happy as those who live in much better houses.

To-day we travelled thirty-three miles to Alexandria, just one hundred miles from Natchez. The first forty was Mississippi swamp, excellent land, but a good deal of it too low for cultivation; the last sixty miles was, with few exceptions, hilly, sandy, pitch pine woods. We passed only a few good plantations. Occasionally, we found a small prairie of poor soil, and a deserted log house. It was indeed the most dreary road I ever travelled. In the last day's travel, we passed two small rivers; one we crossed in a ferry boat; and to our special wonder, we found quite a decent bridge over the other.

Red River is rightly named; it is almost as red as blood, caused by the red soil through which it passes. It is quite a large stream; but the water is too brackish to drink, or for culinary purposes. The only resource of the inhabitants of Alexandria is to catch rain water for which they have enormous large cisterns. We crossed the river opposite the town in a ferry boat, and found the current about as strong as that of the Mississippi. It is navigable for steamboats, in a moderate stage of water, as high up as "the raft," and when the removal of that is completed, for a long distance into the country. About a mile above the town, there is a short rapid which boats cannot pass when the water is low.

The mouth of Red River has probably undergone some changes. It is almost certain, that in by-gone years, Red River had its own separate channel to the Gulf of Mexico; but in process of time, the ever changing Mississippi river took a long turn that way; struck into its channel, and after appropriating its waters and three miles of its bed to its own use, wheeled round to the left, and pursued its own course to the ocean. In this state of the case, the upper part of Red River became a tributary of the Mississippi, and the lower part a mere waste-way to pass off its superfluous waters. But the inconstant Mississippi, a short time ago, cut out for itself a new, strait channel across the bend, and left Red River to itself. This cut-off, however, proved of incalculable advantage to that section of country. It let off the Mississippi waters so freely, that a large tract of most excellent land does not now overflow; and this is sought for with avidity, and settling fast.

Alexandria is pleasantly situated on a level plain, the south side of Red River, one hundred and four miles from its mouth, and three hundred and twenty-nine from New-Orleans. It is regularly laid out in squares; has a court house, three hotels, eight or ten stores, two or three groceries, and a number of good dwelling houses. Its chief export is cotton, and that of the first quality. Red River cotton commands the highest price in market. I saw a large number of bales piled on the river bank, and wagon loads coming in.

Gentlemen and ladies, in pleasure carriages and on horseback, were riding through the streets; and the hotels were full of guests. It appears to be a place of business and of pleasure; of much wealth, and in a rich neighborhood. This place and Natchitoches, seventy-five miles above it, are the only towns of any size in this section of the country.

At the upper end of the town, there is a regular laid out race-course, of a circular form, and a mile in extent. Here, the speed of horses is frequently put to the test, and extensive bets made on the result. This seems to be the favorite sport of this country--of more absorbing interest than any other; and about which the people talk more than on any other one subject. Good race-horses are of great value, and almost any price will be given for them. Although the race-course may have its great attractions--it may exhilarate the feelings, to see that noble animal, the horse, with mettle high, and lofty bearing, spurn the dust beneath his feet, and skim along the plain with the swiftness of the wind; and although it may have a tendency to improve the breed of horses; yet upon the whole, may it not be said, that it is purchasing improvement and pleasure, at a great expense of time and money; and, independent of its moral effect upon society, productive of more evil than good.

Gambling is too much the order of the day. A large billiard room faces the main street in this village, and seems never to lack for customers. In this room one man killed another by striking him on the head with the _cue_, and his trial was just finished as I arrived. He was convicted of manslaughter, and sentenced to ten years confinement in the State Prison. The result of the trial gave general dissatisfaction among the people. They thought he ought to have been convicted of murder and suffered its penalty.

Not much attention is paid to the cultivation of vegetables or fruit. The peach and fig-tree were the only fruit trees I saw, and but few of them.--The fig-tree much resembles our northern quince tree, but grows some larger in size. The only vegetables we had at table, were turnips and sweet potatoes. The northern potatoe will not produce a crop unless new seed is obtained every year.

All the beds in this region are surrounded with thin curtains, or as they are termed here, moscheto-bars, to protect the inmate from that pestiferous, anti-sleeping insect, the moscheto. Of all insects this world produces, the moscheto is the most troublesome and annoying. To lie down without a bar, as I sometimes did, and fight the moschetoes all night long is dreadful. Too tired and sleepy to keep awake, I would fall into a drowse, only to be aroused in a moment by half a dozen dabbing into my face, and singing in my ears. They are indeed, too familiar by half; and the only chance to cut their acquaintance is to flee. I would not spend my days in the region of moschetoes for the sake of wealth, for I should only possess splendid misery.