The following morning found me on the other side of the St. Francis, traversing the swamp which Uhl and I had had such trouble to cross nine months ago. Although still soft and muddy, it was not quite so bad as on the previous occasion. I gained the banks of the lake about dusk, and hailed the ferryman. He was not the man who kept it when we first came here. As the sky looked suspicious, I decided on passing the night in the house. My host was a young man, with no one but a negro boy to attend him; yet there was society enough in front of the house, for on the spot where Uhl and I had bivouacked, three families were encamped, all bound for Texas.
As we were about to go to sleep, an old man came in, saying that he was not quite well, and could not bear the night air, and requesting permission to sleep in the house. On leave being granted, he spread his blanket before the fire, sat himself on it, and clasping his left knee with both hands, fixed his eyes steadfastly on the blazing logs. The negro boy sat in the chimney corner, staring at the old man, who at first took no notice of him, but after a time he turned suddenly towards him, saying,—“Here, good lad, I am subject to shocking bad dreams; if I begin to talk, and throw my arms about, will you give me a good shaking?” The boy nodded, and the old man became a much more important personage in his estimation. “But I sleep very sound, you must shake me well.” The boy nodded again. “If you do it well, I will give you sixpence.” The boy grinned as well as nodded. The man lay down on his blanket, and the boy watched him as a cat watches a mouse. I could not sleep, and turned and turned in vain; at length I heard a groan. I thought of the old fellow and his contract with the boy, and looked to see if the latter was awake. He was on his knees watching his charge with all his might. The man uttered some broken words, and raised both his arms. The boy had only waited for this; he had him by the shoulder in an instant, and shaking him with all his force, called out, “Master, master—open your eyes, master.” The man awoke, and saying, “Thank you,” was about to turn on the other side, which did not suit the boy: he shook him again. “I tell you I am awake; do you want to shake the soul out of me?” and he tried to get to sleep. But Sambo shook him again, so that he started up in a rage, asking, “What do you go on shaking me for, when I am wide awake?” The boy jumped back, frightened by the threatening expression of the old fellow, and said, trembling, “I—I—I—want that sixpence!” Altogether, it was too much for my gravity, and I burst into a roar of laughter; the two managed to settle their differences, and I soon afterwards fell asleep.
I was early on the march, and arrived towards evening at a neat comfortable looking house, surrounded by large fields of cotton and Indian corn, betokening the abode of a rich planter; on receiving a friendly affirmative to my inquiry for night quarters, I placed my rifle and game bag in the corner, and sat myself on an easy chair by the fire.
Strangers inquiring for night quarters must never suppose that they are to receive them gratuitously. The usual price for supper, bed, and breakfast—be the same good or bad—is half a dollar; but at Strong’s I had to pay a dollar, which was an imposition. The charge for a horse depends on the neighborhood, and the price of Indian corn. In the swamps it was half a dollar; in Oiltrove Bottom, only a quarter, corn being cheap there; further south, the charge was higher, and to the north-east again it was cheaper.
On my entrance, I perceived that there were ladies in the house. I had been for some time alone, and as it grew dark, having had enough of my own thoughts, I took out my zither, and began to play. A negro boy, enticed into the room by the music, soon ran out again, probably to tell his mistress what a curious sort of instrument I was playing upon. I soon had an invitation to join the ladies; but my costume was not the most suitable for a drawing-room. For months, neither razor nor scissors had approached my head: my hunting-shirt had been ten months in wear, sorely battered by wind and weather, and not being of leather, the thorns had left their marks in many places: my leggins and water-proof boots were passable: my shirt, of my own washing without soap, in cold water, boasted various shades of red, from turkey’s and bear’s blood, which is much more difficult to wash out than that of deer.
The ladies received me very politely, almost too politely, and I began to play. The Americans in general have little feeling for German music; they are a people who live in a hurry, and every thing must go fast, even music: when they hear any which has not the time of a reel or hornpipe, they say that they do not understand it. The more educated class forms an exception, and of such was my audience. The younger lady was the owner’s wife, very pretty, though pale; but, indeed, I should like to know how any one could live in these vile swamps without being pale. The elder, a kindly, venerable matron, seemed to be on a visit; they were simply but tastefully dressed, as is the case with all American women, even of the lowest classes; every thing in the room seemed neat and orderly. I passed a few very agreeable hours there; they were very much pleased with the instrument, having seen nothing like it before; and as they listened with marked pleasure to the sweet German and Scottish airs, it seemed as if they could never have enough of it, and it was past eleven before I got to bed. There was a piano in the room, but it had not been played upon sufficiently to perfect its tone.
It was long since I had enjoyed the pleasure of accomplished society, and I shall never forget my friendly reception by this family.
From hence, to Memphis was thirteen miles, with a good road, and by two in the afternoon I was again on the waves of the Mississippi. The ferry carried me over to Tennessee, Arkansas lay behind me, and once more I returned to civilized society from the wild life of the backwoods; but who can decide whether to a happier one. My funds had fallen so low that I was obliged to look out for work. The banks of the Mississippi are so high and steep at Memphis, at the mouth of the Wolf river, that the town cannot be seen from the stream. The steamers deliver their passengers and cargoes on board wharf-boats, formed of used-up steamboats moored to the banks.
The times were hard: I could obtain no other work than to cut wood, which, with my weak health and unpractised hand, was certainly no trifle; but necessity is a good teacher. I gained half a dollar and food by cutting a cord of wood, eight feet long, four feet high, and four feet deep, at a merchant’s, who had a tract of land and a saw-mill about two miles from the town. Although hard work at first, yet when I got used to it, I found that on an average I could cut and pile a cord a day.
After fourteen days’ hard work, I resolved to go to Cincinnati for my letters, and, above all, to recover my health in its superior climate, then to return and visit the hills. I had cut eighteen cords, and as the man saw that I was poor, sickly, and in a hurry to go away, he cheated me out of two dollars by giving me bad coin, a fact which I discovered on board the “Persian” steamer, on my passage to Cincinnati. I was kindly received by all my old friends, and established myself in a new suit of clothes, for which, however, I had to run in debt.