We occasionally used the
opportunity of the boat's stopping to take in wood for a ten
minutes' visit to the shore; we in this manner explored a field
of sugar canes, and loaded ourselves with as much of the sweet
spoil as we could carry. Many of the passengers seemed fond of
the luscious juice that is easily expressed from the canes, but
it was too sweet for my palate. We also visited, in the same
rapid manner, a cotton plantation. A handsome spacious building
was pointed out to us as a convent, where a considerable number
of young ladies were educated by the nuns.
At one or two points the wearisome level line of forest is
relieved by _bluffs_, as they call the short intervals of high
ground. The town of Natches is beautifully situated on one of
these high spots; the climate here, in the warm season, is as
fatal as that of New Orleans; were it not for this, Natches would
have great attractions to new settlers. The beautiful contrast
that its bright green hill forms with the dismal line of black
forest that stretches on every side, the abundant growth of
pawpaw, palmetto and orange, the copious variety of sweet-scented
flowers that flourish there, all make it appear like an oasis in
the desert. Natches is the furthest point to the north at which
oranges ripen in the open air, or endure the winter without
shelter. With the exception of this sweet spot, I thought all
the little towns and villages we passed, wretched looking, in the
extreme.
Pages:
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30