After leaving Bayou Crocodile, our young hunters travelled due west,
over the prairies of Opelousas. They did not expect to fall in with
buffalo on these great meadows. No. The bison had long since forsaken
the pastures of Opelousas, and gone far westward. In his place
thousands of long horned cattle roamed over these plains; but these,
although wild enough, belonged to owners, and were all marked and tended
by mounted herdsmen. There were white settlements upon the prairies of
Opelousas, but our adventurers did not go out of their way to visit
them. Their purpose was to get far beyond; and they did not wish to
lose time.
They crossed numerous bayous and rivers, generally running southward
into the Mexican Gulf. The shallow ones they forded, while those that
were too deep for fording, they swam over upon their horses. They
thought nothing of that--for their horses, as well as the mule Jeanette
and the dog Marengo, were all trained to swim like fishes.
After many days' travel they reached the banks of the river Sabine,
which divides Louisiana from Texas, then a part of the Mexican
territory. The face of the country was here very different from most of
that they had passed over. It was more hilly and upland; and the
vegetation had altogether changed. The great dark cypress had
disappeared, and pines were more abundant. The forests were lighter and
more open.
There was a freshet in the Sabine; but they swam across it, as they had
done other rivers, and halted to encamp upon its western bank. It was
still only a little after noon, but as they had wet their baggage in
crossing, they resolved to remain by the river for the rest of the day.
They made their camp in an open space in the midst of a grove of low
trees. There were many open spaces, for the trees stood wide apart, and
the grove looked very much like a deserted orchard. Here and there a
tall magnolia raised its cone-shaped summit high above the rest, and a
huge trunk of one of these, without leaves or branches, appeared at some
distance, standing like an old ruined tower.
The ground was covered with flowers of many kinds. There were blue
lupins and golden helianthi. There were malvas and purple monardas, and
flowers of the cotton-rose, five inches in diameter. There were
blossoms of vines, and creeping plants, that twined around the trees, or
stretched in festoons from one to another--the cane-vine with its white
clusters, and the raccoon grape, whose sweet odours perfumed the air;
but by far the most showy were the large blossoms of the bignonia, that
covered the festoons with their trumpet-shaped corollas, exhibiting
broad surfaces of bright scarlet.
In the midst of these flowers our hunters pitched camp, picketing their
animals, and putting up their tent as usual.
The sun was shining brightly, and they proceeded to spread their wet
robes and blankets.
"It strikes me," said Lucien, after they had completed their
arrangements for camping, "that we have halted on the site of an old
Indian town."
"Why do you think so?" asked Basil.
"Why, I notice these heaps of rubbish here that are covered with weeds
and briars. They are Indian graves, or piles of decayed logs where
houses once stood. I can tell from the trees, too. Look around! do you
see anything peculiar in these trees?"
"Nothing," replied Basil and Francois together. "Nothing, except that
they are mostly small and low."
"Do you not observe anything odd in their species?"
"No," said Basil. "I think I have seen them all before. There are
mulberry-trees, and black walnuts, and Chicasaw plums, and pawpaws, and
Osage orange, and shell-bark hickories, and pecans, and honey-locusts.
I see no others except vines, and those great magnolias. I have seen
all these trees before."
"Yes," returned Lucien, "but have you ever observed them all growing
together in this way?"
"Ah! that is a different affair: I believe not."
"Because it is from that fact," continued Lucien, "that I am led to
believe this spot was once the seat of an Indian settlement. These
trees, or others that produced them, have been planted here, and by the
Indians."
"But, brother Luce," interposed Francois, "I never heard that the
Indians of these parts made such settlements as this must have been.
These low woods extend down the river for miles. They must have had a
large tract under cultivation."
"I think," replied Lucien, "the Indians who at present inhabit this
region never planted these trees. It is more likely a settlement of the
ancient nation of the Natchez."
"The Natchez! Why, that is the name of a town on the Mississippi, but I
did not know there were Indians of that name."
"Neither are there now; but there once was a very extensive tribe so
called who occupied the whole territory of Louisiana. It is said that,
like the Mexicans and Peruvians, they had made some progress in
civilisation, and knew how to weave cloth and cultivate the soil. They
are now an extinct race."
"How came that about?"
"No one can tell. Some of the old Spanish authors say that they were
destroyed by Indians from South America. This story, however, is very
absurd--as is, indeed, most of what has been written by these same old
Spanish authors, whose books read more like the productions of children
than of reasoning men. It is far more likely that the Natchez were
conquered by the Creeks and Chicasaws, who came from the south-west of
their country; and that the remnant of their tribe became blended with
and lost among the conquerors. In my opinion, this is how they have
come to be extinct. Why, then, should not this be one of their ancient
settlements, and these trees the remains of their orchards, cultivated
by them for their fruits and other uses?"
"But _we_ make but little use of such trees," remarked Francois.
"What's that you say?" exclaimed Basil. "You, Francois, who every year
eat such quantities of shell-bark nuts, and pecans, and red mulberries,
too!--you who suck persimmons like a 'possum!--no use, eh?"
"Well, that's true enough," rejoined Francois, "but still we do not
cultivate these trees for their fruits--we find them in the woods,
growing naturally."
"Because," interrupted Lucien, "we have the advantage of the Indians.
We understand commerce, and get other and better sorts of fruits from
all parts of the world. We have cereals, too, such as wheat and rice,
and many kinds which they had not; we can therefore do without these
trees. With the Indians it was different. It is true they had the
Indian corn or maize-plant (_Zea maiz_), but, like other people, they
were fond of variety; and these trees afforded them that. The Indian
nations who lived within the tropics had variety enough. In fact, no
people without commerce could have been better off in regard to
fruit-bearing plants and trees than the Aztecs, and other tribes of the
South. The Natchez, however, and those in the temperate zone, had their
trees and plants as well--such as those we see before us--and from these
they drew both necessary food, and luxurious fruits and beverages.
Indeed the early colonists did the same; and many settlers in remote
places make use to this day of these spontaneous productions of Nature."
"Would it not be interesting, Basil," said Francois, appealing to his
elder brother, "if Lucien would give a botanical description of all
these trees, and tell us their uses? He knows all that."
"Yes," replied Basil, "I should like to hear it."
"That I shall do with pleasure," said Lucien. "Not, however, a
_botanical_ description, according to the sense of the Linnean school,
as that would weary you soon enough, without adding much to your stock
of information. I shall only state what I know of their properties and
uses; and I may remark that there is not a tree or plant that is not
intended for some use in the economy of Nature. If botanists had spent
their time in trying to discover these uses, instead of wasting it in
idle classifications, mankind would have been more enriched by their
labours.
"Let us begin, then, with the mulberry-tree, as there are many of them
growing around. Were I to tell you all about this valuable tree, I
should occupy a day or more. I shall only state those facts about it
that are most interesting.
"The mulberry-trees form the genus _morus_--for this was the name by
which they were known to the ancient Greeks. Of this genus there are
several well-known species. No doubt there may be other species growing
in wild countries, and yet unknown or undescribed by botanists; and this
remark applies as well to other trees, for every day we hear of new
varieties being discovered by enterprising explorers.
"First, then, comes the white mulberry (_Morus alia_). It is the most
important species yet known. This you will readily admit when I tell
you that from it comes all our silk--spun out of it by the silkworm
(_Bombyx mori_). It is called white mulberry on account of the colour
of its fruit, which, however, is not always white, but sometimes of a
purple or black colour. Now it would be difficult to give an exact
description of a white mulberry-tree; for, like the apple and pear
trees, there are many varieties of it produced from the same seeds, and
also by difference of soil and climate. It is a small tree, however,
rarely growing over forty feet high, with thick leaves and numerous
branches. The leaves are the most important part of it--for it is upon
these the silkworms feed, spinning their fine threads out of the milky
juice, which in its properties resembles the juice of the caoutchouc
tree. It is true that the silkworm will feed upon the other species of
mulberries, and also upon slippery elms, figs, lettuce, beets, endive,
and many kinds of leaves besides; but the silk made from all these is of
an inferior quality; and even the varieties of the white mulberry itself
produce different qualities of this beautiful material.
"This tree has other uses. Its wood is compact and heavy, weighing
forty-four pounds to the cubic foot. In France it is much used in
turnery; and wine-casks are made from it, as it gives to white wines an
agreeable flavour of violets. Vine-props and fences are made from its
branches; and out of its bark--by a process which I have not time to
describe--a cloth can be manufactured almost as fine as silk itself.
The fruit of the white mulberry--where it grows in warm climates--is
very good to eat, and makes an excellent syrup.
"The white mulberry, it is supposed, first came from China, where it is
still found growing wild; and the Chinese first cultivated it for
feeding silkworms as early as 2700 years before the Christian era. The
tree is now found in every civilised country, growing either as an
ornament of the shrubbery, or for the manufacture of silk.
"The next species is the black mulberry (_Morus nigra_), so called on
account of the colour of its fruit, which is of a dark purple, nearly
black. This kind came originally from Persia, but is now, like the
white mulberry, found in all civilised countries. It is cultivated more
for ornament and shade than for feeding silkworms; though it is put to
this use in some parts, especially in cold climates, where the other
species does not thrive. They are easily distinguished from each
other--the bark of the black being much rougher and darker. The wood of
the latter is not so firm nor heavy as the white, but it is also
durable, and is used in England for hoops, wheels, and ribs of small
vessels. In Spain, Italy, and Persia, they prefer the leaves of the
black for feeding the silkworm. They are also eaten by cattle, sheep,
and goats. The roots when prepared are used as a vermifuge. The fruit
has a pleasant aromatic taste; and is eaten both raw and in preserves,
or mixed with cider makes an agreeable drink. The Greeks distil a clear
weak brandy out of them; and in France they make a wine from these
mulberries--which must be drunk while it is new, as it soon turns to
vinegar. This fruit is good for fevers and rheumatisms; and it is much
sought after by birds and all kinds of poultry, who devour it greedily.
"So much for the white and black mulberry-tree. We now come to the
third species, the red (_Morus rubra_).
"That is the red before your face," continued Lucien, pointing to the
trees, which he had already designated. "It is so called from the
fruit, which, as you know, are of a dark red colour, and resemble red
raspberries more than anything in the world. Some of these trees, you
see, are nearly seventy feet in height, though it usually does not reach
so high. You notice the leaves. The are heart-shaped, many of them ten
inches long, and nearly as broad as long. They are dark green and
rough, and for feeding the silkworm quite useless where the white
mulberry grows. They form a delightful shade, however; and this is one
of the uses of this beautiful tree. The fruit, too, is, in my opinion--
and I think Francois will agree with me--quite equal to the best
raspberries. As for the wood, it is much used in the dockyards of the
Southern states. It is of a pale lemon colour; and is considered more
durable for trenails than any other--that of the locust excepted.
"The red mulberry, like the white and black species, runs into several
varieties, differing considerably from each other.
"There is still a fourth species of this genus, called the paper
mulberry (_Morus papyrifera_). This, however, has been separated by
botanists into another genus; but it is worth a word here, as it is a
very curious and valuable tree, or, rather, a large shrub, for it does
not grow so tall as either of the other three. It is a native of China,
Japan, and the islands of the Pacific Ocean; but, like the others, it is
cultivated for ornament both in Europe and America. Its fruit, which is
of a scarlet colour, is globe-shaped, and not oblong, as that of the
true mulberries; and this is one reason why it has been separated into a
genus by itself. Its leaves are of no use for silk-making, but they
make excellent food for cattle; and as the tree grows rapidly, and
carries such large bunches of leaves, some people have said that it
would yield better than grass, and should be cultivated for pasture. I
do not know whether this has been tried yet. The most interesting part
of the paper mulberry is its bark, which is used in the manufacture of
paper both in China and Japan. The beautiful India paper used for
engravings is made from it, and so, too, is the fine white cloth worn by
the natives of the Society Islands, and which so much astonished
Europeans when they first saw it. It would be interesting to detail the
process of manufacturing this cloth as well as the paper, but it would
take up too much of our time at present.
"There is another genus of trees which resembles the mulberries very
much. They are valuable for their wood, which produces a fine yellow
dye, known by the name of `fustic-wood.' The tree that produces the
best of this dye is the _Morus tinctoria_, and grows in the West Indies
and tropical America; but there is a species found in the southern
United States, of an inferior kind, which produces the `bastard fustic'
of commerce.
"So much, then, for the mulberry-tree; but I fear, brothers, I have left
but little time to describe the others."
"Oh! plenty of time," said Basil; "we have nothing else to do. We are
better learning from you than rambling idly about; and upon my word,
Luce, you make me begin to take an interest in botany."
"Well, I am glad of that," rejoined Lucien, "for I hold it to be a
science productive of much good, not only on account of its utility in
the arts and manufactures, but to the mind of the student himself; for,
in my belief, it has a refining influence."
And Lucien was about to continue his description of the trees, when a
series of incidents occurred which put an end to the conversation, at
least upon that subject.
These incidents are recorded in the chapter which follows.