CHAPTER XXV.
SOME LOUISIANA FOLKS.
No negroes have ever been allowed to settle in the Catahoula country. The dead line is seven miles from Alexandria. No objection is made if anyone desires to bring a negro servant temporarily into the country, but he must go out with his employer. Once a lumberman brought negroes in, and determined to work them. They were warned, and left. Next year be brought in a new lot, and announced that he would protect them. They were duly warned, but refused to leave. One morning they were found—seven of them—hanging to the rafters of their house. Years elapsed before the experiment was again tried. The coroner's jury brought in a verdict of suicide—and this was in dead earnest—no joke or hilarity intended. To disregard due warning was equivalent to any other method of self-destruction.
When in after years an attempt was made to work negroes here, warnings were duly posted on their doors. The negroes left. But the employer was a determined man, and swore he would be eternally dingbusted—or words to that effect—if he didn't work all the niggers he pleased; and he enlisted a new lot of the most desperate characters he could find. Warning was given and neglected; when one evening, as the darkies sat at supper, a rifle bullet knocked the nail keg from under one of them, and next morning not a negro was to be found in the vicinity.
Observe the dispassionate, thoroughly conservative and gentlemanly way the people handled the affair. There was no thirsting for gore, no disposition to immolate these misguided folks to their employer's obstinacy; just a gentle hint that Catahoula did not allow negroes. An intimation to the employer followed, that a repetition would be followed by a rifle aimed at him, not the keg this time, and he was wise enough to see the point.
We have heard these people spoken of as being dangerous characters. They might be such, if misunderstood and their prejudices rudely affronted. But we found them a simple, warm-hearted, scrupulously honest set, with whom we thoroughly enjoyed a week's companionship, and expect to go back for another one. Their interests are limited, their viewpoint may not permit an extensive outlook, but their doors are always open to the stranger, the coffee-pot on the stove, and the best they have is offered him with a courtesy that never fails. They take little interest in politics, newspapers we did not once see there, and schooling is limited. Mrs. S. did not go to church in summer, because that would involve the putting on of shoes—though she did say that if she chose to go she would not hesitate to march into church in her bare feet, let those dislike it who might!
But do not imagine that these worthy people are deficient in common sense. Mr. S. was perfectly aware that the timber he does not cut now is worth three times what is was when he took up this land, and will be worth more every year.
This pine must reproduce itself with marvelous rapidity. We saw the furrows of the old cotton cultivation running away back through the woods, in which the trees were about ready for the saw. There is plenty of land still open for homesteading, but one must hunt it up for himself, as the government gives absolutely no information to inquirers, except that township maps cost a dollar apiece. If you want to know what townships of what parishes have land available, just get on your horse and explore, till you find out.