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532	Mississippi	Historical	Society.
no sign of human habitation since we started in the morning; no finger board to direct our way; a drizzling rain set in; we forced our weary horse, sometimes fording, sometimes swimming the angry and swollen stream that rushed down from the hills, when on the summit of the ridge which divided itself in different directions the road branched off in trails of cow-paths. We' acknowledged ourselves lost in the depths of the lonely forest; it was now nightfall. We remained undecided, as those who are bewildered in the woods always do, riding up one path and down another until suddenly we heard a rustling in the thicket below and the next moment a noble buck bounded up the hollow on our left, leaped convulsively back and fell exhausted almost at our feet. He had been wounded, for the blood oozed slowly out of his flank. Soon we heard the trampling of feet upon our back. The pursuers came plunging on through brake and
glen, and we already heard in fancy the hearty cheers of the huntsmen.
On, on came the hungry pack upon the scent of blood. The reeds in the ravine below came under their feet. We raised ourselves on our stirrups to give the death halloo when at the instant a dozen fierce forms leaped with a savage yell upon the expiring animal. One glance sufficed. They were not hounds, but gaunt and ravenous wolves, their eyes blood-shot and glaring and their tongues hanging down from their voracious jaws. We had no disposition to remain in the neighborhood and our frightened horse dashed forward like a flying dragon, snorting with terror. It was in vain to try to check him. Away he flew. He had taken a stony path leading down a long descent; his iron hoofs fell fast and sharp and left a train of fire behind him. For half an hour he continued his flight, bearing hard upon the bit, bounding forward like a deer and quivering with alarm at the fire that burst from beneath his feet.
At length the gentle tinkle of a bell was heard; a light flash through the woods and then on an abrupt turn of the path a solitary farm-house stood before us.1 *
In answer to our eager shout a female voice that sounded most benignantly bade us ?light." We walked in, drenched
1 ?The sketch embraced between references ? 15? and ? z6? appeared in
the Free Trader and Daily Gazelle of December 21, 1841.
A Trip Through the Piney Woods.?Claiborne.
533
'and dripping, and found ourselves at the residence of an aged ??widow who with four daughters and three sons had lived there many years, their nearest neighbor being twelve miles off. They owned a large stock of cattle and the three boys (as the good mother called her sons, who were tall enough for Prussian grenadiers), were then absent with a drove. Finding ourselves welcome we stripped our horse and led him to a small stable that stood near. We found a trough filled with potatoes and the rack with hay made of the dry vines. Our horse ate them with great relish. On this farm, as on most of the others in the same locality, a few acres are cow-penned and planted for bread; an acre or two for rice; but the main crop is the sweet potato. Some nations boast of their palm tree which supplies them with food, oil, light, fuel, shelter and clothing, but it will be seen that we have in the potato a staple article scarcely inferior to it. It will grow upon soils too thin to produce com and with little culture. It may be converted into a valuable manure. For forage it is excellent. Hogs and cows thrive upon it exceedingly. An acre properly cultivated will yield from three to five hundred bushels. Its farinacious properties make it almost equal to brfead and it supplies some of the most
delicious dishes for the dessert.
Supper was somewhat tardy; but in an adjoining house, lit
up by a brisk fire, we heard sundry ?notes of preparation.? It was a rare chance that brought a guest to that lone dwelling and its kind inmates were intent on making us comfortable. Lulled by the cheerful signs and savory odors we cast ourselves ..into an arm-chair and dozed until at length a gentle touch and a musical voice summoned us to the table. The repast was abundant, excellent and scrupulously neat?but almost every dish was composed of potatoes dressed in many various ways. There were baked potatoes and fried potatoes?bacon and potatoes boiled together?a fine loin of beef was flanked round with potatoes nicely browned and swimming in gravy. A hash of wild turkey was garnished with potatoes mixed up in it. A roast fowl was stuffed with potatoes, beside us stood a plate of potato biscuit, as light as sponge; the coffee, which was strong and well flavored, was made of potatoes, and one of the girls drew from the comer cupboard a rich potato pie. In about an