52 COLLISION WITH TREES. [CHAP. XXIII. 



in the flood season. Strange as it may seem, the 

 higher the waters rise the narrower is the river 

 channel. It is true that the adjoining swamps and low 

 lauds are inundated far and wide ; but the steamers 

 must all pass between two rows of tall trees which 

 adorn the opposite banks, and as the branches of 

 these noble trees stretch half way over the stream, 

 the boat, when the river has risen forty or sixty feet, 

 must steer between them. In the dark, when they 

 are going at the rate of sixteen miles an hour or 

 more, and the bends are numerous, a slight miscal 

 culation carries the woodw r ork of the great cabin in 

 among the heads of the trees. In this predicament 

 I found the Amaranth when I got on deck. Many 

 a strong bough had pierced right through the cabin- 

 windows on one side, throwing down the lights, and 

 smashing the wooden balustrade and the roof of the 

 long gallery, and tearing the canvas awning from the 

 verandah. The engine had been backed, or its 

 motion reversed, but the steamer, held fast by the 

 trees, was swinging round with the force of the 

 current. A large body of men were plying their 

 axes freely, not only cutting off boughs, but treating 

 with no respect the framework of the cabin itself. 

 I could not help feeling thankful that no branch had 

 obtruded itself into our berths. At length we got 

 off, and the carpenters and glaziers set to work 

 immediately to make repairs. 



The evening before this adventure we had been 

 sitting for some hours enjoying the privacy of our 

 own state-room, from the windows of which we had 

 a good view of the river s bank, when at length my 



