90 
LETTERS FROM ALABAMA, 
that these gusts, violent and terrific as they are, are 
limited generally to a belt of narrow width, but of 
varying length* I have been told that after the 
passing of one of these whirlwinds, which are very 
brief in their duration, its course may be traced for 
miles through the forest, having swept a lane for 
itself almost as effectually as if the settlers had 
been there cutting down the trees to make a road. 
On the approach of such a storm as this, the negroes 
in the field, warned by the blackening horizon, flee 
home for shelter; for exposure in a field of dry 
trees at such a time would be almost certain death. 
I witnessed a strong breeze the other day, but not 
violent enough to be called a hurricane. Every 
one in the house was collected at the windows 
overlooking the plantation, watching its progress 
with considerable anxiety. It was easy to trace it 
through field and forest, over the intervening valley, 
and sweeping up the opposite hills. The ragged 
Spanish moss flew out horizontally, like the frag- 
ments of a sail torn from the bolt-rope; we saw 
large white branches, careering through the air ; 
old trunks riven, and splintered, and dashed to 
the earth, overturning others in their descent, and 
thus increasing the destruction. In less than a 
quarter of an hour from its commencement, the 
crash, the roar, the havoc had all ceased : the sky 
cleared; and you would not have known that the 
even tenor of the day had been broken, but by the 
effects which remained. In this case no damage 
was incurred, at least here, except the crushing of 
a fence or two, and the ploughing up of some of 
the corn and cotton in the field. 
But I was going to tell you of my bird-seeking 
expedition yesterday at dawn of day. Besides the 
