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The Crackers and negroes came from long distances to see the paper boat. One afternoon, when a number of people had gathered at Rixford to behold the little craft, I placed it on one of those curious sheets of water of crystal purity called in that region a sink; and though this nameless, mirror-like lakelet did not cover over an acre in extent, the movements of the little craft, when propelled by the double paddle, excited an enthusiasm which is seldom exhibited by the piny-woods people.

As the boat was carefully lifted from the silvery tarn, one woman called out in a loud voice, "Lake Theresa!" and thus, by mutual consent of every one present, did this lakelet of crystal waters receive its name.

The blacks crowded around the canoe, and while feeling its firm texture, and wondering at the long distance it had traversed, expressed themselves in their peculiar and original way. One of their number, known as a "tonguey nigger," volunteered to explain the wonder to the somewhat confused intellects of his companions. To a question from one negro as to "How did dis yere Yankee-man cum all dis fur way in de paper canoe, all hissef lone?" the "educated" negro replied: "It's all de Lord. No man ken cum so fur in paper boat ef de Lord didn't help him. De Lord does eberyting. He puts de tings in de Yankee-man's heads to du um, an' dey duz um. Dar was de big Franklin up norf, dat made de telegraf. Did ye eber bar tell ob him?"

"Neber, neber!" responded all the negroes.

Then, with a look of supreme contempt for the ignorance of his audience, the orator proceeded: "Dis great Franklin, Cap'n Franklin, he tort he'd kotch de litening and make de telegraf, so he flies a big kite way up to de heabens, an' he puts de string in de bottle dat hab nufing in it. Den he holds de bottle in one hand, an' he holds de cork in de udder hand. Down cums de litening and fills de bottle full up, and Cap'n Franklin he dun cork him up mighty quick, and kotched de litening an' made de telegraf. But it was de Lord -- de Lord, not Cap'n Franklin dat did all dis."

It was amusing to watch the varied expression of the negroes, as they listened to this description of the discovery of electricity, and the origin of the telegraph. Their eyes dilated with wonder, and their thick lips parted till the mouth, growing wider and wider, seemed to cover more than its share of the face. The momentary silence was soon broken by a deep gurgle proceeding from a stolid-looking negro, as he exclaimed: "Did he kotch de bottle full ob litening, and cork him up. Golly! I tort he wud hab busted hissef!"

"So he wud! so he wud!" roared the orator, "but ye see 'twas all de Lord -- de Lord's a-doing it."

While in Florida I paid some attention to the negro method of conducting praise meetings, which they very appropriately call "de shoutings." If I give some verbatim reports of the negro's curious and undignified clerical efforts, it is not done for the purpose of caricaturing him, nor with a desire to make him appear destitute of mental calibre; but rather with the hope that the picture given may draw some sympathy from the liberal churches of the north, which do not forget the African in his native jungle, nor the barbarous islanders of the South Seas. A well-informed Roman Catholic priest told me that he had been disappointed with the progress his powerfully organized church had made in converting the freedmen. Before going among them I had supposed that the simple-minded black, now no longer a slave, would be easily attracted to the impressive ceremonies of the Church of Rome; but after witnessing the activity of their devotions, and observing how anxious they are to take a conspicuous and a leading part in all religious services, it seemed to me that the free black of the south would take more naturally to Methodism than to any other form of Christianity.

The appointment of local preachers would be especially acceptable to the negro, as he would then be permitted to have ministers of his own color, and of his own neighborhood, to lead the meetings; while the Roman Catholic priest would probably treat him more like a child, and would therefore exercise a strong discipline over him.

In one of their places of worship, at my request, a New York lady, well skilled in rapid writing and familiar with the negro vernacular, reported verbatim the negro preacher's sermon. The text was the parable of the ten virgins; and as the preacher went on, he said: "Five ob dem war wise an' five of dem war foolish. De wise jes gone an' dun git dar lamps full up ob oil and git rite in and see de bridegoom; an' de foolish dey sot dem rite down on de stool ob do-noting, an' dar dey sot till de call cum; den dey run, pick up der ole lamps and try to push door in, but de Lord say to dem, Git out dar! you jes git out dar!' an' shut door rite in dar face.

"My brudders and my sisters, yer must fill de lamps wid de gospel an' de edication ob Moses, fur Moses war a larned man, an' edication is de mos estaminable blessin' a pusson kin hab in dis world.

"Hole-on to de gospel! Ef you see dat de flag am tore, get hole somewhar, keep a grabblin until ye git hole ob de stick, an' nebah gib up de stick, but grabble, grabble till ye die; for dough yer sins be as black as scarlet, dey shall be whit as snow."

The sermon over, the assembled negroes then sung in slow measure:

"Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve - Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve - Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve - I'll git home to heav-en when I die.

Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am, Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am, Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am, I'll git home to heav-en when I die.

Lord wish-ed I was in heav-en, Fur to see my mudder when she enter, Fur to see her tri-als an' long white robes: She'll shine like cristul in de sun.

Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am, Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am, Sweet heav-en am-a-my-am, I'll git home to heav-en when I die,"

While visiting a town in Georgia, where the negroes had made some effort to improve their condition, I made a few notes relating to the freedman's debating society of the place. Affecting high-sounding words, they called their organization, "De Lycenum," and its doings were directed by a committee of two persons, called respectively, "de disputaceous visitor," and "de lachrymal visitor." What particular duties devolved upon the "lachrymal visitor," I could never clearly ascertain. One evening these negroes debated upon the following theme, "Which is de best -- when ye are out ob a ting, or when ye hab got it?" which was another form of expressing the old question, "Is there more pleasure in possession than in anticipation?" Another night the colored orators became intensely excited over the query, "Which is de best, Spring Water or Matches?"

The freedmen, for so unfortunate a class, seem to be remarkably well behaved. During several journeys through the southern states I found them usually temperate, and very civil in their intercourse with the whites, though it must be confessed that but few of them can apply themselves steadily and persistently to manual labor, either for themselves or their employers.

CHAPTER XV. DOWN UPON THE SUWANEE RIVER.

THE RICH FOLIAGE OF THE RIVER. -- COLUMBUS. -- ROLINS' BLUFF. OLD TOWN HAMMOCK. -- A HUNTER KILLED BY A PANTHER, DANGEROUS SERPENTS. -- CLAY LANDING. THE MARSHES OP THE COAST, -- BRADFORD'S ISLAND. -- MY LAST CAMP. -- THE VOYAGE ENDED.

Some friends, among whom were Colonel George W. Nason, Jr., of Massachusetts, and Major John Purviance, Commissioner of Suwanee County, offered to escort the paper canoe down "the river of song" to the Gulf of Mexico, a distance, according to local authority, of two hundred and thirty-five miles. While the members of the party were preparing for the journey, Colonel Nason accompanied me to the river, which was less than three miles from Rixford, the proprietors of which sent the canoe after us on a wagon drawn by mules. The point of embarkation was the Lower Mineral Springs, the property of Judge Bryson.

The Suwanee, which was swollen by some recent rains in Okefenokee Swamp, was a wild, dark, turbulent current, which went coursing through the woods on its tortuous route with great rapidity. The luxurious foliage of the river-banks was remarkable. Maples were in blossom, beech-trees in bloom, while the buckeye was covered with its heavy festoons of red flowers. Pines, willows, cotton-wood, two kinds of hickory, water-oak, live-oak, sweet-gum, magnolia, the red and white bay-tree, a few red cedars, and haw-bushes, with many species not known to me, made up a rich wall of verdure on either side, as I sped along with a light heart to Columbus, where my compagnons de voyage were to meet me. Wood-ducks and egrets, in small flocks, inhabited the forest. The limestone banks of the river were not visible, as the water was eighteen feet above its low summer level.

I now passed under the railroad bridge which connects Live Oak with Savannah. After a steady row of some hours, my progress was checked by a great boom, stretched across the river to catch the logs which floated down from the upper country. I was obliged to disembark and haul the canoe around this obstacle, when, after passing a few clearings, the long bridge of the J. P. & M. Railroad came into view, stretching across the now wide river from one wilderness to the other. On the left bank was all that remained of the once flourishing town of Columbus, consisting now of a store, kept by Mr. Allen, and a few buildings. Before the railroad was built, Columbus possessed a population of five hundred souls, and it was reached, during favorable stages of water, by light-draught steamboats from Cedar Keys, on the Gulf of Mexico. The building of railroads in the south has diverted trade from one locality to another, and many towns, once prosperous, have gone to decay.

The steam saw-mills and village of Ellaville were located on the river-bank opposite Columbus, and this lumber establishment is the only place of importance between it and Cedar Keys. This far-famed river, to which the heart of the minstrel's darky "is turning eber," is, in fact, almost without the "one little hut among de bushes," for it is a wild and lonely stream. Even in the most prosperous times there were but few plantations upon its shores. Wild animals roam its great forests, and vile reptiles infest the dense swamps. It is a country well fitted for the hunter and lumberman, for the naturalist or canoeist; but the majority of people would, I am sure, rather hear of it poured forth in song from the sweet lips of Christina Nilsson, than to be themselves "way down upon the Suwanee Ribber."

On Monday, March 22d, Messrs. Nason, Purviance, and Henderson joined me. The party had obtained a northern-built shad-boat, which had been brought by rail from Savannah. It was sloop-rigged, and was decked forward, so that the enthusiastic tourists possessed a weatherproof covering for their provisions and blankets. With the strong current of the river, a pair of long oars, and a sail to be used when favorable winds blew, the party in the shad-boat could make easy and rapid progress towards the Gulf, while my lightly dancing craft needed scarcely a touch of the oar to send her forward.

On Tuesday, the 23d, we left Columbus, while a crowd of people assembled to see us off; many of them seeming to consider this simple and delightful way of travelling too dangerous to be attempted. The smooth but swift current rolled on its course like a sea of molten glass, as the soft sunlight trembled through the foliage and shimmered over its broad surface.

Our boats glided safely over the rapids, which for a mile and a half impede the navigation of the river during the summer months, but which were now made safe by the great depth of water caused by the freshet. The weather was charming, and our little party, fully alive to all the beautiful surroundings, woke many an echo with sounds meant to be sweet. Of course the good old song was not forgotten. Our best voice sang:

"Way down up-on de Suwanee Rib-ber, Far, far away, Dere's whar my heart is turn-ing eb-ber, Dere's whar de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home.

"All round de little farm I wander'd When I was young; Den many happy days I squan-der'd - Many de songs I sung. When I was playing wid my brud-der, Hap-py was I. O! take me to my kind old mud-der, Dere let me live and die!

"One little hut among de bushes, - One dat I love, - Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, No matter where I rove. When will I see de bees a-hum-ming All round de comb? When will I hear de ban-jo tum-ming Down in my good old home?"

We all joined in the chorus at the end of each verse:

"All de world am sad and dreary Eb-ry-whar I roam. O, darkies, how my heart grows weary, Far from do old folks at home."

We soon entered forests primeval which were quiet, save for the sound of the axe of the log-thief; for timber-stealing is a profession which reaches its greatest perfection on the Florida state lands and United States naval reserves. Uncle Sam's territory is being constantly plundered to supply the steam saw-mills of private individuals in Florida. Several of the party told interesting stories of the way in which log-thieves managed to steal from the government legally.

"There," said one, "is X, who runs his mill on the largest tract of pine timber Uncle Sam has got. He once bought a few acres' claim adjacent to a fine naval reserve. He was not, of course, able to discover the boundary line which separated his little tract from the rich government reserve, so he kept a large force of men cutting down Uncle Sam's immense pines, and, hauling them to the Suwanee, floated them to his mill. This thing went on for some time, till the government agent made his appearance and demanded a settlement.