xcvi 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
having overcome every obstacle, alone, and without being acquainted with the 
country; and what surprised the boatmen more, ivithout u-htx]{ry. On an 
average I met from forty to sixty boatmen every day, returning from this place 
and New Orleans. The Chickasaws are a friendly, inoffensive people, and the 
Choctaws, though more reserved, are equally harmless. Both of them treated 
me with civility, though I several times had occasion to pass through their 
camps, where many of them were drunk. The paroquet which I carried with 
me was a continual fund of amusement to all ages of these people ; and as 
they crowded around to look at it, gave me an opportunity of studying their 
physiognomies, without breach of good manners. 
'• In thus hastily running over the particulars of this journey, T am obliged 
to ouiit much that would amuse and interest you; but my present situation, 
a noisy tavern, crowded in every corner, even in the room where I write, with 
the sons of riot and dissipation, prevents me from enlarging on particulars. 
I could also have wished to give you some account of this place, and of the 
celebrated jMississippi, of which you have heard so much. On these subjects, 
however, I can at present only offer you the f iUowiug slight sketch, taken the 
morning after my arrival here. 
" The best view of this jjlace and surrounding scenery, is from the old Span- 
ish fort on the south side of the town, about a quarter of a mile distant. 
From this high point, looking up the river, Natchez lies on your right, a 
mingled group of green trees, and white and red houses, occupying an uneven 
plain, much Vvashed into ravines, rising as it recedes from the bluif or high 
precipitous bank of the river. There is, however, neither steeple, cupola, nor 
distinguished object to add interest to its appearance. The country beyond it 
to the right is thrown up into the same irregular knolls ; and at the distance 
of a mile, in the same direction, you have a peep of some cultivated farms, 
bounded by the general forest. On your left you look down, at a depth of 
two or three hundred feet, on the river, winding majestically to the south; the 
intermediate space exhibiting wild perpendicular precipices of brown earth. 
This part of the river and shore is the general rendezvous of all the arks or 
Kentucky boats, several hundreds of which are at present lying moored there, 
loaded with the produce of the thousand shores of this noble river. The busy 
multitudes below present a perpetually varying picture of industry; and the 
noise and uproar, softened by the distance, with the continual crov/ing of the 
poultry with which many of these arks are filled, produce cheerful and exhila- 
rating ideas. The majestic Mississippi, swelled by his ten thousand tributary 
streams, of a pale brown color, half a mile wide, and spotted with trunks of 
trees, that show the different threads of the current and its numerous eddies, 
bears his depth of water past in silent grandeur. Seven gun-boats, anchored 
at equal distances along the stream, with their ensigns displayed, add to the 
effect. A few scattered houses are seen on the low opposite shore, where a 
narrow strip of cleared land exposes the high gigantic trunks of some dead- 
ened timber that bound the woods. The whole country beyond the Missis- 
sippi, from south round to west, and north, presents to the eye one universal 
level ocean of forest, bounded only by the horizon. So perfect is this vast 
level, that not a leaf seems to rise above the plain, as if shorn by the bauds 
