CHAPTER XVI.
About a mile above this place, we left Red River, and travelled the road on the bank of Bayou Rapide for twenty-five miles, to the mansion house of a Mr. Henderson, where we stayed over night. In this day's ride, we passed over as rich land as I ever saw, covered with extensive cotton plantations. It is all river-bottom land of a red clayey soil; and all along the road, as we passed, we saw clouds of negroes with bags and baskets at their sides, picking cotton. The land produces an abundant and a profitable crop, and the planters appear to have grown rich. But it seems not exactly to be a paradise, if there be indeed, any such a place on earth. It is excessively annoyed by moschetoes, and is very unhealthy. During the warm, sickly summer months, the planters with their families flee to the pine woods, where the air is fine and salubrious; and leave their overseers and negroes to battle with disease and moschetoes, the best way they can. They are very companionable, hospitable and kind, and their style of living is much the same as that of the southern planters generally.
About half way up, we crossed the stream over a bridge to the right hand side; and just before we arrived at Mr. Henderson's, we crossed it again. Soon after we crossed it the first time, I happened to cast my eyes towards the stream, and found it running the other way! We had certainly been travelling all along up the stream; and now, without any apparent cause, either in the "lay of the land," or direction of the channel, it was just as certain its current was with us. I enquired of our host the meaning of all this. He pleasantly observed, that the streams in this part of the country, were very accommodating; they could go almost any way. He, however, explained the phenomenon. He said, the channel of the stream, by the side of which we had travelled, was, undoubtedly, once the bed of Red River. Ten miles above him, the river had taken a straight course to Alexandria, and left its former circuitous route. The water, which we now saw running, is supplied by a stream from the lake, enters the old channel on the opposite side from where we were travelling, then divides itself, one half running down and entering the river near Alexandria, and the other running up the old bed, and entering the river ten miles above. When the river is high, a portion of it flows round in its old bed, and drives the upper current along with it. So that by this house the stream runs about half of the year one way, and the other half in the opposite direction! A rather difficult stream I should think, to build a mill upon. This is indeed quite a curiosity; but to the explanation one objection may be urged. If this be in fact the old bed of Red River, and from examination I am satisfied it is, one might naturally suppose it would be all along descending _one way_; and, therefore, the stream which enters it would not divide itself, but the _whole_ of it run in the _same direction_ that the river formerly did. The answer to this is, the stream coming in, carried sand with it, and for a considerable distance somewhat filled up the old channel, so as to make a descent each way; but not so much as to prevent Red River when high, from sweeping round, in its former course.
A curiosity, in some respects similar to this, is found in Arkansas territory. White river and Arkansas river enter the Mississippi ten miles apart; and about twenty miles above, there is a direct water communication between them; which is a large navigable stream; the water of which runs, sometimes one way and sometimes the other, according to the comparative height of each river; so that a person living on its bank, could make no sort of calculation which way the stream might run, from day to day.
Mr. Henderson has a large house pleasantly situated on a sandy hill near the pine woods, and commands an extensive view in front of the river flatland, and cotton plantations. We here fared well; and as Mr. Henderson has ample accommodations, his house may be safely recommended as a stopping place for the traveller. Our route now lay through the pine woods. Our object was to strike the road from Natchitoches to Mexico, at the nearest point practicable; and this spot, we were told, was at the garrison, fort Jessup. This fort is situated half way between Natchitoches and the Sabine river, the line between the United States and Texas; being twenty-five miles from each. Natchitoches being twenty-five miles north of our route, we concluded not to pass through it; but when Red River is high, travellers to Texas often take a passage on board a steamboat from Natchez to that place, and from thence, take the Mexican road.
From Mr. Henderson's an intelligent gentleman, well acquainted with the country, travelled with us three or four days on our route; and from whom we obtained much information. This day, we travelled forty miles through an unbroken forest of pitch pine. The land is sandy, gently undulating, but seldom rocky. The trees were of good size, but not so thick together as to prevent the grass from growing beneath them; or the traveller from seeing a great distance as he passes along. About half way, we found a small log house, in which a white man lived with a black wife. With some people, I suppose this would be commendable; but I confess it gave me unpleasant feelings to see half a dozen of _half-bloods_ running about the house. He professed to keep a sort of tavern, but all the refreshment we obtained was bread and meat.
At night, we came to the house of a planter, near a small river. He had a hundred acres cleared of river bottom land, which had been planted with cotton and corn; a large stock of cattle and hogs, which ranged in the woods. He had lived here twelve years, was worth twenty thousand dollars; yet still lived in a log house with only two rooms, and without a window in it. Our supper was fried beef, fried greens, sweet potatoes, corn bread and a cup of coffee, without milk or sugar; which we ate by the light of the fire, as he had neither a candle or a lamp. Our fellow traveller told us that we had now got out of the region of what we should call comfortable fare; and we might expect to find it worse, rather than better, all the way through Texas. Our lodging was on a comfortable bed made of Spanish moss; and our breakfast exactly like our supper, which we ate with the doors open to give us light. Our bill was a dollar each, for supper, breakfast, lodging and horsekeeping; and this, I found to be the general price, in all country places throughout Texas.
After passing the river and about a mile of bottom land, we came to the pine woods again. I could always tell when we approached a stream, by the trees being covered with Spanish moss. The first I saw, was on the Mississippi, about a hundred miles above Natchez; and in all the region south of that, it is found hanging to the limbs of the trees near streams of water. It is of a silver-grey color, hanging straight down from the limbs three or four feet, like a horse's mane. It looks, perhaps, more like dressed flax than any thing else; and some of the trees were so completely covered with it that we could scarcely discover any thing but the moss. It does not strongly attach itself to the limb I used to pull off handfulls of it, as we passed along, to examine. It is but the work of a few minutes to gather enough for a bed. The only preparation necessary is to scald it in hot water, or to let it remain awhile in cold water, to rot like hemp. It then looks like fine long hair, and a dark brown color. When dry, it is whipped, and put into the tick. It makes a very good, cheap bed, and lasts a long time. Of this material most of the beds in this country are made, and sometimes a mattress of the kind is found at the north.
All the river bottom lands at the south, are covered with a dense, heavy growth of trees, among which are many kinds not found at the north. The cotton-wood grows very large, somewhat resembling the whitewood of the western States. The magnolia, celebrated for its large, splendid blossom, is an evergreen, having a dark, green leaf an inch and a half wide, and two and a half long, and of the size of the maple--the peccan, a tree resembling the walnut, and bearing a round nut an inch long, equal to the hickory-nut--the hackberry, about the size and much resembling the beach--the holly, a small evergreen, having a small thick leaf--the chinquopin, a mere shrub, resembling the chestnut tree, and bearing a similar but smaller nut. We frequently found the grape vine of large size running high up the trees; and occasionally, a spot of cane-brake.
This day's travel was through the pine woods, except at some few places where we found a small clearing and a log house, near some small stream. We did not go by fort Jessup. Our companion knew of a nearer route, and we took it. About the middle of the afternoon, we came out on the Mexican road, three miles south of the garrison. It appeared to be a road a good deal travelled by wagons, as well as on horseback; some places running through swamps and muddy; occasionally, a bridge over the most miry streams; but generally in a state of Nature. The land became some better, and we passed more settlements.
At night we stopped at a log house kept by a widow. She had, living with her, two sons and one daughter. The house had no windows, and but one room in it. Near it, was a small kitchen where a negro woman did the cooking. Our fare was very similar to that of the night before, except the old lady had a candle on the table at supper. There were four beds in the room where we all slept--the old lady and her daughter in one bed--her two sons in another--and we three travellers in the other two. I hope the delicate nerves of my fair readers may not greatly be disturbed at this; if they are, they must close the book, and read no further; for If I must tell "the whole truth," I shall be obliged to state, that during the thirty following nights, I often slept in the same room with one or more ladies!
The old lady had about twenty acres cleared and cultivated with corn; but the land is not the first rate. The fact is, all along Missouri, Arkansas and Louisiana, after you get sixty or seventy miles west of the Mississippi river, you come to light, sandy, hilly land; generally covered with pitch pine; excepting a narrow strip on the margin of the streams; so that half of Missouri, three-fourths of Arkansas, and half of Louisiana, are poor land, hardly fit for cultivation. This is not what I had supposed; but from my own observations, and the information of travellers, I believe this to be the fact.
We took an early start, and travelled on. The northern people have been accused of being very inquisitive; but I am sure I would turn out the people here against them on a wager. As a general rule, we were inquired of, "where from"--"where going," &c. &c. To-day, a man, twenty rods distant from the road, came running up, and asked us, where we were from. I thought this was carrying inquisitiveness too far; and so I took the yankee privilege of answering his question by asking another, viz:--If it was out of mere curiosity, or for the sake of obtaining information beneficial to himself, that induced him to enquire. He said he was from Kentucky himself, and did not know but we might be from there also; and in that case, he wished to inquire the news. I told him we were none of us from Kentucky. But this did not satisfy him; he insisted upon knowing where we were from; and appeared quite vexed that he could not obtain the information from any of us.
We passed a number of covered waggons, generally with four horses, loaded with goods and families bound to Texas. They invariably lodge out doors over night. They carry their own provisions with them, and select some spot where there is plenty of wood and water, build up a fire, cook their meals, turn their horses or oxen loose to feed on the prairie, or in the woods, and camp down on the grass by the side of the fire. I saw some who had been thirty and forty and sixty days on the road; from Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, &c. and said they had not put up at a house for a single night. Some of them looked quite "wearied and worn;" and if they do indeed find rest at last, it must be confessed, that "through great tribulation," they enter the promised land.
About noon to-day, we came to the Sabine river, the dividing line between the United States and Texas. We had now travelled from Natchez two hundred and twenty-five miles on horseback; and this, the seventh day since we started. I had now become used to the saddle; and saving the muddy roads and miry streams which we sometimes found, I enjoyed the trip very well. I was surprised to find the Sabine so small a river. I should think it was not more than one third as large as Red River. It is a deep muddy stream, and gentle current. We were paddled across the river by a woman, who was a "right smart" one, and landed at last on the shore of
TEXAS.