RAMBLINGS IN THE DISMAL SWAMP. 



S. A. LEWIS. 



I always had great desire to see the Dismal 

 swamp, and an opportunity to do so was of- 

 fered me while spending a few weeks in the 

 small town of Suffolk, Va. 



One beautiful Sunday morning in Febru- 

 ary, '93, a party of 6 of us determined to visit 

 that wonderful natural phenomenon, Drum- 

 mond's lake, in the Dismal swamp. We 

 walked about 2 miles along the N. & W. R. 

 R. to one of the ditches which afford en- 

 trance by boat to the lake. We procured 2 

 small boats, an easy task, as the owner was 

 absent, and made our way slowly and with 

 difficulty toward the heart of the swamp. 

 One of the boats was heavy and clumsy and 

 after paddling a mile we exchanged it for a 

 lighter one which was moored along the 

 ditch. The transfer was made at the ex- 

 pense of a complete ducking for one of our 

 company; but as the day was warm, the 

 unfortunate suffered no inconvenience be- 

 yond being wet to the skin. 



The ditch was about 12 feet wide and 4 

 deep, and we were obliged to use the oars as 

 paddles. After 12 miles of paddling we 

 reached the shore of the lake, almost ex- 

 hausted. However, we were somewhat re- 

 vived by partaking of our scanty lunch, 

 though nothing short of a miracle would 

 have made it a meal for one man much less 

 for 6. 



The ditch was almost straight and we 

 could see ahead 2 miles or more; in fact, so 

 far that the banks seemed to close up and 

 the ditch to run to a point. The banks were 

 covered with reeds and other vegetation 

 which the eye could not penetrate beyond 

 10 or 12 yards. On both sides of the ditch, 

 with the exception of about a mile at the 

 start, is the impassable marsh. Frequently 

 snakes would drop from the bushes overhead, 

 or a fish zealous to capture a fly would spring 

 out of water in front of the boats. There are 

 indications of a slight current in the last 6 

 miles of the ditch toward the lake, while 

 nearer the swamp shore none is percepti- 

 ble. 



The water of these ditches is palatable, 

 having a slightly bitter taste imparted by the 

 juniper trees abounding in the swamp. The 

 traveler having tasted of this water, craves 



it. Quarts may be drunk with no ill result 

 whatever, except -an insatiable desire for 

 more. Perhaps the resemblance of its color 

 to that of beer contributes to its provoca- 

 tiveness. 



A hardwood forest, 2 miles wide, sur- 

 rounds the lake. The roots and fallen trees 

 are covered with water and this strange 

 forest is only passable in boats. The trees 

 are large and tall, making a dense shade in 

 which an oppressive silence reigns. Bear 

 and wild cattle are said to abound there, but 

 the watery aspect of that awful place indi- 

 cates otherwise, unless those animals have 

 developed aquatic tendencies. 



The view from the shores of Lake Drum- 

 mond is enchanting. At times the surface 

 of the lake is calm and serene, only to be 

 disturbed a few moments later, by some un- 

 seen force, so violently that the waves would 

 swamp a small boat unless skillfully man- 

 aged by one well versed in seacraft. No air 

 stirs, not a leaf rustles, yet this commotion 

 goes on as if caused by the unseen hand of 

 Him who made the sea to roar and the tide 

 to ebb and flow. 



During the summer months the mosquito 

 rules supreme, and few travelers venture 

 into the birthplace of that sanguinary insect. 

 The opossum and raccoon abound in the un- 

 disturbed seclusion of the swamp, and no 

 doubt more highly prized animals- could live 

 there unmolested if proof against malaria 

 and moccasin venom. 



The lover of the weed little thinks as he 

 enjoys his after-meal pipe, that he is drawing 

 smoke through a reed which probably grew 

 in the Dismal swamp, and was shaken by the 

 ague-laden breezes of that dread place. 



On the shore of Lake Drummond is a 

 hotel where, during a few months, before 

 the mosquito and other man eating insects 

 have developed their blood sucking para- 

 phernalia, the traveler can secure food and 

 shelter. There you will be regaled with fried 

 black-fish, which you may wash down with 

 cool, foaming beer or a more inebriating 

 beverage from which Uncle Sam never real- 

 ized any revenue. 



With all its hardships our trip was a de- 

 lightful one and I recall it with pleasure. 



Fisher: : ' That rod you forgot to bring 

 along reminds me of a player on a foot-ball 

 team." 



Bates: " How's that? " 



Fisher: " Left tackle, you know." 



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