The swift current and the steady breeze carried us away from this stormy scene into the quiet of nature; for the great river has its solitudes, though many times in the day we saw steamboats going up and down, or encountered other craft voyaging towards the Gulf.
On the tenth day we approached the mouth of the Ohio. Again the expanse of waters increased, till it seemed to my narrow vision to be almost an ocean. It was nearly dark, and the weather was as pleasant as a maiden's dream. We had advanced about seven degrees of latitude towards the south, and Nature was clothed in her brightest green. We had stepped from the cold spring of Wisconsin to the mild summer of the South. Ten days before we had been among leafless trees; now we were in the midst of luxuriant foliage. Flora sat in her arm-chair, near the platform, enjoying the scene with me.
"If you are tired of the raft, Flora, we will go the rest of the way in a steamboat," I said, after we had spoken of the changing seasons we had experienced.
"I am not tired of it—far from it," she replied.
"We have over a thousand miles farther to go."
"I think I shall only regret the river was not longer when we get to New Orleans."
"I wonder what Captain Fishley thinks has become of us," I added, chuckling, as I thought of the family we had left.
"He and his wife must be puzzled; but I suppose they won't find out where we are till we write to them."
"They will not know at present then. We have got rid of our tyrants now, and I am in no hurry to see them again."
"Twig the steamers!" shouted Sim, from the roof of the house, where he had perched himself to observe the prospect. "They are having a race."