Vitis Labrusca, or the Fox-grapes; and

Rhus glabra, or the Sumach.

The trees whose leaves were coming out, were the following:

Morus rubra, the Mulberry-tree.

Fagus Castanea, the Chesnut-tree.

Platanus occidentalis, or the Water-beach.

Laurus Sassafras, the Sassafras-tree.

Juglans alba, the Hiccory. Some trees of this kind had already large

leaves, but others had none at all; the same difference, I believe,

exists likewise among the other species of hiccory.

The Virginian Cherry-tree grows here and there, in the woods and

glades: its leaves were already pretty large; but the flowers were not

yet entirely open.

The Sassafras-tree was now every where in flower; but its leaves were

not yet quite disclosed.

The Liquidambar Styraciflua or Sweet Gum-tree, grows in the woods,

especially in wet soil, in and near purling rivulets: its leaves were

now already sprouting out at its summit. This tree grows to a great

thickness, and its height rivals that of the tallest firs and oaks; as

it grows higher, the lower branches die and drop, and leave the stem at

last quite smooth and strait, with a great crown at the very summit;

the seeds are contained in round, dentated cones, which drop in autumn;

and as the tree is very tall, so the high winds carry the seeds away to

a great distance. I have already given an account of the use of this

tree in the first volume, to which I must add the following account.

The wood can be made very smooth, because its veins are extremely fine:

but it is not hard; you can carve letters on it with a knife, which

will seem to be engraved. Mr. Lewis Evans told me, from his own

experience, that no wood in this country was more fit for making moulds

for casting brass in, than this. I enquired of Mr. Bartram, “Whether he

had found the rosin on this tree, which is so much praised in physic.”

He told me, “That a very odoriferous rosin always flows out of any cut

or wound, which is made in the tree; but that the quantity here was too

inconsiderable to recompense the labour of collecting it.” This

odoriferous rosin or gum first gave rise to the English name. The

further you go to the South, the greater quantity of gum does the tree

yield, so that it is easy to collect it. Mr. Bartram was of opinion,

that this tree was properly calculated for the climate of Carolina, and

that it was brought by several ways so far North as New York. In the

southern countries the heat of the Sun fills the tree with gum, but in

the northern ones it does not.

May the 2d. This morning I travelled down to Salem, in order to see the

country.

The Sassafras-tree stood single in the woods, and along the fences,

round the fields: it was now distinguishable at a distance for its fine

flowers, which being now quite open, made it look quite yellow. The

leaves were not yet come out.

In some meadows the grass was already grown up pretty high: but it is

to be observed, that these meadows were marshy, and that no cattle had

been on them this year. These meadows are mown twice a year, viz. in

May, and the end of August, or beginning of August, old style. I saw

some meadows of this kind to-day, in which I saw grass which was now

almost fit to be mown; and many meadows in Sweden have not such grass

at the proper time of mowing, as these had now; these meadows lay in

marshes and vallies, where the Sun had very great power: the grass

consisted merely of Cyperus-grass or Carex.

The wild Prune-trees were now every where in flower; they grow here and

there in the woods, but commonly near marshes and in wet ground; they

are distinguishable by their white flowers: the fruit when ripe is

eatable.

The Cornus Florida, or Dogwood, grows in the forests, on hills, on

plains, in vallies, in marshes, and near rivulets. I cannot therefore

say, which is its native soil; however, it seems that in a low but not

a wet soil it succeeds best; it was now adorned with its great snowy

Involucra, which render it conspicuous even at a distance. At this time

it is a pleasure to travel through the woods, so much are they

beautified by the blossoms of this tree. The flowers which are within

the Involucra began to open to-day. The tree does not grow to any

considerable height or thickness, but is about the size of our Mountain

Ash (Sorbus aucuparia). There are three species of this tree in the

woods; one with great white Involucra, another with small white ones,

and a third with reddish ones.

The woods were now full of birds: I saw the lesser species every where

hopping on the ground, or creeping in bushes, without any great degree

of shiness; it is therefore very easy for all kinds of snakes to

approach and bite them. I believe that the rattlesnake has nothing to

do but to ly still, and without waiting long, some little bird or other

will pass by or run directly upon her, giving her an opportunity of

catching it, without any enchantment.

Salem is a little trading town, situated at some distance from the

river Delaware. The houses do not stand far asunder, and are partly

stone, and partly wood. A rivulet passes by the town, and falls into

the Delaware. The inhabitants live by their several trades, as well as

they can. In the neighbourhood of Salem are some very low and swampy

meadows; and therefore it is reckoned a very unwholesome place.

Experience has shewn, that those who came hither from other places to

settle, got a very pale and sickly look, though they arrived in perfect

health, and with a very lively colour. The town is very easily

distinguished about this time, by the disagreeable stench which arises

from the swamps. The vapours of the putrid water are carried to those

inhabitants which live next to the marshes; and enter the body along

with the air, and through the pores, and thus are hurtful to health. At

the end of every summer, the intermitting fevers are very frequent. I

knew a young couple, who came along with me from England to America:

soon after their arrival at Philadelphia, they went to Salem, in

perfect health; but a few weeks after they fell sick, and before the

winter was half over they were both dead.

Many of the inhabitants plant Saffron; but it is not so good and so

strong as the English and French Saffron. Perhaps it grows better by

being laid up for some years, as tobacco does.

The Gossypium herbaceum, or Cotton plant, is an annual plant; and

several of the inhabitants of Salem had began to sow it. Some had the

seeds from Carolina, where they have great plantations of cotton; but

others got it out of some cotton which they had bought. They said, it

was difficult, at first, to get ripe seeds from the plants which were

sown here; for the summer in Carolina, from whence their first seed

came, is both longer and hotter than it is here. But after the plants

have been more used to the climate, and hastened more than they were

formerly, the seeds are ripe in due time.

At night I returned to Raccoon.

May the 4th. Crab-trees are a species of wild apple trees, which grow

in the woods and glades, but especially on little hillocks, near rivers

[39]. In New Jersey the tree is rather scarce; but in Pensylvania it is

plentiful. Some people had planted a single tree of this kind near

their farms, on account of the fine smells which its flowers afford. It

had begun to open some of its flowers about a day or two ago; however,

most of them were not yet open. They are exactly like the blossoms of

the common apple-trees, except that the colour is a little more reddish

in the Crab-trees; though some kinds of the cultivated trees have

flowers which are very near as red: but the smell distinguishes them

plainly; for the wild trees have a very pleasant smell, somewhat like

the rasp-berry. The apples, or crabs, are small, sour, and unfit for

any thing but to make vinegar of. They ly under the trees all the

winter, and acquire a yellow colour. They seldom begin to rot before

spring comes on.

I cannot omit an observation here. The Crab-trees opened their flowers

only yesterday and to-day; whereas, the cultivated apple-trees, which

are brought from Europe, had already lost their flowers. The wild

cherry-trees did not flower before the 12th of May; on the other hand,

the cultivated or European ones, had already opened their blossoms on

the 24th of April. The black walnut-trees of this country had neither

leaves nor flowers, when the European kind has large leaves and

blossoms. From hence it appears, that trees brought over from Europe,

of the same kind with the wild trees of America, flower much sooner

than the latter. I cannot say what is the reason of this forwardness of

the European trees in this country, unless they bring forth their

blossoms as soon as they get a certain degree of warmth, which they

have in their native country. It seems, the European trees do not

expect, after a considerable degree of warmth, any such cold nights as

will kill their flowers; for, in the cold countries, there seldom

happen any hot days succeeded by such cold nights as will hurt the

flowers considerably. On the contrary, the wild trees in this country

are directed by experience, (if I may so speak) not to trust to the

first warmth; but they wait for a greater heat, when they are already

safe from cold nights. Therefore, it happens often, that the flowers of

the European trees are killed by the frosts here; but the native trees

are seldom hurt, though they be of the same kind with the European

ones. This is a manifest proof of the wisdom of the Creator.

May the 5th. Early this morning I went to Rapaapo, which is a great

village, whose farms ly all scattered. It was inhabited merely by

Swedes, and not a single Englishman, or people of any other nation,

lived in it: therefore they have preserved their native Swedish tongue,

and mixed but few English words with it. The intention of my journey

was partly to see the place, and to collect plants; and other natural

curiosities there; and partly to find the places where the White Cedar,

or Cupressus thyoides, grows.

The Mayflowers, as the Swedes call them, were plentiful in the woods

where-ever I went to-day; especially on a dry soil, or one that is

somewhat moist. The Swedes have given them this name, because they are

in full blossom in May. Some of the Swedes and the Dutch call them

Pinxterbloem, (Whitsunday flowers), as they really are in blossom about

Whitsuntide. The English call them Wild Honeysuckles; and at a distance

they have some similarity to the Honeysuckle, or Lonicera. Dr. Linnæus,

and other botanists, call it an Azalea [40]. Its flowers were now open,

and added a new ornament to the woods, being little inferior to the

flowers of the honeysuckle and Hedysarum. They sit in a circle round

the stem’s extremity, and have either a dark red or a lively red

colour; but, by standing for some time, the sun bleaches them, and at

last they get a whitish hue. I know not why Colden calls them yellow

[41]. The height of the bush is not always alike. Some were as tall as

a full grown man, and taller, others were but low, and some were not

above a palm from the ground; yet they were all full of flowers. The

people have not yet found that this plant may be applied to any use;

they only gather the flowers, and put them in pots, because they are

very shewy. They have some smell; but I cannot say it is very pleasant.

However, the beauty of the colour entitles them to a place in every

flower-garden.

To-day I saw the first ear of this year’s rye. In Sweden, rye begins to

shew its ears about Ericmas, that is, about the 18th of May, old stile

[42]. But in New Sweden, the people said, they always saw the ears of

rye in April, old stile; whether the spring begins late or early.

However, in some years the ears come early, and in others late, in

April. This spring was reckoned one of the late ones.

Bullfrogs [43] are a large species of frogs, which I had an opportunity

of hearing and seeing to-day. As I was riding out, I heard a roaring

before me; and I thought it was a bull in the bushes, on the other side

of the dyke, though the sound was rather more hoarse than that of a

bull. I was however afraid, that a bad goring bull might be near me,

though I did not see him; and I continued to think so till some hours

after, when I talked with some Swedes about the Bullfrogs, and, by

their account, I immediately found that I had heard their voice; for

the Swedes told me, that there were numbers of them in the dyke. I

afterwards hunted for them. Of all the frogs in this country, this is

doubtless the greatest. I am told, that towards autumn, as soon as the

air begins to grow a little cool, they hide themselves under the mud,

which lies at the bottom of ponds and stagnant waters, and ly there

torpid during winter. As soon as the weather grows mild, towards

summer, they begin to get out of their holes, and croak. If the spring,

that is, if the mild weather, begins early, they appear about the end

of March, old stile; but if it happens late, they tarry under water

till late in April. Their places of abode are ponds, and bogs with

stagnant water; they are never in any flowing water. When many of them

croak together, they make an enormous noise. Their croak exactly

resembles the roaring of an ox or bull, which is somewhat hoarse. They

croak so loud, that two people talking by the side of a pond cannot

understand each other. They croak all together; then stop a little, and

begin again. It seems as if they had a captain among them: for when he

begins to croak, all the others follow; and when he stops, the others

are all silent. When this captain gives the signal for stopping, you

hear a note like poop coming from him. In day-time they seldom make any

great noise, unless the sky is covered. But the night is their croaking

time; and, when all is calm, you may hear them, though you are near a

mile and a half off. When they croak, they commonly are near the

surface of the water, under the bushes, and have their heads out of the

water. Therefore, by going slowly, one may get close up to them before

they go away. As soon as they are quite under water, they think

themselves safe, though the water be very shallow.

Sometimes they sit at a good distance from the pond; but as soon as

they suspect any danger, they hasten with great leaps into the water.

They are very expert at hopping. A full-grown Bullfrog takes near three

yards at one hop. I have often been told the following story by the old

Swedes, which happened here, at the time when the Indians lived with

the Swedes. It is well known, that the Indians are excellent runners; I

have seen them, at Governor Johnson’s, equal the best horse in its

swiftest course, and almost pass by it. Therefore, in order to try how

well the bull-frogs could leap, some of the Swedes laid a wager with a

young Indian, that he could not overtake the frog, provided it had two

leaps before hand. They carried a bull-frog, which they had caught in a

pond, upon a field, and burnt his back-side; the fire, and the Indian,

who endeavoured to be closely up with the frog, had such an effect upon

the animal, that it made its long hops across the field, as fast as it

could. The Indian began to pursue the frog with all his might at the

proper time: the noise he made in running frightened the poor frog;

probably it was afraid of being tortured with fire again, and therefore

it redoubled its leaps, and by that means it reached the pond before

the Indian could over-take it.

In some years they are more numerous than in others: nobody could tell,

whether the snakes had ever ventured to eat them, though they eat all

the lesser kinds of frogs. The women are no friends to these frogs,

because they kill and eat young ducklings and goslings: sometimes they

carry off chickens that come too near the ponds. I have not observed

that they bite when they are held in the hands, though they have little

teeth; when they are beaten, they cry out almost like children. I was

told that some eat the thighs of the hind legs, and that they are very

palatable.

A tree which grows in the swamps here, and in other parts of America,

goes by the name of White Juniper-tree. Its stem indeed looks like one

of our old tall and strait juniper-trees in Sweden: but the leaves are

different, and the wood is white. The English call it White Cedar,

because the boards which are made of the wood, are like those made of

cedar. But neither of these names are just, for the tree is of the

cypress kind [44]. It always grows in wet ground or swamps: it is

therefore difficult to come to them, because the ground between the

little hillocks is full of water. The trees stand both on the hillocks

and in the water: they grow very close together, and have strait,

thick, and tall stems; but they were greatly reduced in number to what

they have been before. In such places where they are left to grow up,

they grow as tall and as thick as the tallest fir-trees; they preserve

their green leaves both in winter and summer; the tall ones have no

branches on the lower part of the stem.

The marshes where these trees grow are called Cedar Swamps. These cedar

swamps are numerous in New Jersey, and likewise in some parts of

Pensylvania and New York. The most northerly place, where it has been

hitherto found, is near Goshen in New York, under forty-one degrees and

twenty-live minutes of north latitude, as I am informed by Dr. Colden.

For to the North of Goshen, it has not been found in the woods. The

white cedar is one of the trees, which resist the most to putrefaction;

and when it is put above ground, it will last longer than under ground:

therefore it is employed for many purposes; it makes good fences, and

posts which are to be put into the ground; but in this point, the red

cedar is still preferable to the white; it likewise makes good canoes.

The young trees are employed for hoops, round barrels, tuns, &c.

because they are thin and pliable; the thick and tall trees afford

timber, and wood for cooper’s work. The houses which are built of it,

surpass in duration, those which are built of American oak. Many of the

houses in Rapaapo were made of this white cedar wood; but the chief

thing which the white cedar affords is the best kind of shingles. The

white cedar shingles are preferred to all others for several reasons;

first, they are more durable than any others made of American wood, the

red cedar shingles excepted; secondly, they are very light, so that no

strong beams are requisite to support the roof. For the same reason it

is unnecessary to build thick walls, because they are not pressed by

heavy roofs. When fires break out, it is less dangerous to go under or

along the roofs, because the shingles being very light can do little

hurt by falling; they suck the water, being somewhat spungy, so that

the roofs can easily be wetted in case of a fire: however, their

fatness occasions that the water does not hurt them, but evaporates

easily. When they burn and are carried about by the wind, they have

commonly what is called a dead coal, which does not easily set fire

where it alights. The roofs made of these shingles can easily be cut

through, if required, because they are thin, and not very hard; for

these qualities the people in the country, and in the towns, are very

desirous of having their houses covered with white cedar shingles, if

the wood can be got. Therefore all churches, and the houses of the more

substantial inhabitants of the towns, have shingle roofs. In many parts

of New York province, where the white cedar does not grow, the people,

however, have their houses roofed with cedar shingles, which they get

from other parts. To that purpose great quantities of shingles are

annually exported from Eggharbour and other parts of New Jersey, to the

town of New York, from whence they are distributed throughout the

province. A quantity of white cedar wood is likewise exported every

year to the West Indies, for shingles, pipe staves, &c. Thus the

inhabitants are very busy here, not only to lessen the number of these

trees, but even to extirpate them entirely. They are here (and in many

other places) in regard to wood, bent only upon their own present

advantage, utterly regardless of posterity. By this means many cedar

swamps are already quite destitute of cedars, having only young shoots

left; and I plainly observed, by counting the circles round the stem,

that they do not grow up very quickly, but require a great deal of time

before they can be cut for timber. It is well known that a tree gets

only one circle every year; a stem, eighteen inches in diameter, had

one hundred and eight circles round the thicker end; another, seventeen

inches in diameter, had a hundred and sixteen; and another, two feet in

diameter, had one hundred and forty-two circles upon it. Thus near

eighty years growth is required, before a White cedar raised from seed

can be used for timber. Among the advantages which the white cedar

shingles have over others, the people reckon their lightness. But this

good and useful quality may in future times turn out very

disadvantageous to Philadelphia, and other places where the houses are

rooted with cedar shingles; for as the roofs made of these shingles are

very light, and bear but a trifling weight on the walls, so the people

have made the walls but very thin. I measured the thickness of the

walls of several houses here, of three stories high (cellar and garret

not included), and found most of them nine inches and a half, and some

ten inches thick; therefore it is by no means surprising, that violent

hurricanes sometimes make the brick gable-ends to vibrate apparently,

especially on such houses as have a very open situation. And since the

cedar-trees will soon be wanting in this country, and the present roofs

when rotten must be supplied with heavier ones, of tiles, or of other

wood, it is more than probable, that the thin walls will not be able to

bear such an additional weight, and will either break, or require to be

supported by props: or else the whole house must be pulled down and

rebuilt with thicker walls. This observation has already been made by

others. Some of the people here make use of the chips of white cedar

instead of tea, alluring me that they preferred it in regard to its

wholesomeness to all foreign tea. All the inhabitants here were of

opinion, that the water in the cedar swamps is wholesomer than any

other drink: it creates a great appetite, which they endeavoured to

prove by several examples. They ascribed this quality to the water

itself, which is filled with the rosin of the trees, and to the

exhalations which came from the trees, and can easily be smelled. The

people likewise thought that the yellowish colour of the water, which

stands between the cedar trees, was owing to the rosin, which comes out

of the roots of these trees. They likewise all agreed, that this water

is always very cold in the hottest season, which may be partly owing to

the continual shade it is in. I knew several people who were resolved

to go to these cedar swamps, and use the waters for the recovery of

their appetite. Mr. Bartram planted a white cedar in a dry soil, but it

could not succeed there: he then put it into a swampy ground, where it

got as it were new life, and came on very well; and though it was not

taller than a man, yet it was full of cones. Another thing is very

remarkable, with regard to the propagation of this tree: Mr. Bartram

cut its branches in spring two years successively, and put them into

the swampy soil, where they struck roots, and succeeded very well. I

have seen them myself.

The red Juniper-tree is another tree which I have mentioned very

frequently in the course of my account. The Swedes have given it the

name of red Juniper, because the wood is very red and fine within. The

English call it red Cedar, and the French Cedre rouge. However, the

Swedish name is the most proper, as the tree belongs to the Junipers

[45]. At its first growth it has a deal of similarity to the Swedish

Juniper [46], but after it is grown up it gets quite different leaves.

The berry exactly resembles that of the Swedish Juniper, in regard to

its colour and shape; however, they are not so big, though the red

Cedar grows very tall. At Raccoon these trees stood single, and were

not very tall. But at other places I have seen them standing together

in clusters; they like the same ground as the common Swedish Juniper,

especially on the rising banks of rivers, and on other rising grounds,

in a dry, and frequently in a poor soil. I have seen them growing in

abundance, as thick and tall as the tallest fir-trees, on poor dry and

sandy heaths. Towards Canada, or in the most northerly places, where I

have seen them, they commonly choose the steep sides of the mountains,

and there they grow promiscuously with the common Juniper. The most

northerly places where I have found them wild in the woods, is in

Canada, eighteen French miles to the southward of the Fort Saint Jean,

or St. John, in about 44° 35′ North Latitude. I have likewise seen it

growing very well in a garden, on the island of Magdalene [47],

belonging to the then governor of Montreal, Monsieur le Baron de

Longueuil. But it had been got at more southerly places, and was

transplanted here. Of all the woods in this country, this is without

exception the most durable, and withstands putrefaction longer than any

other; it is therefore employed in all such cases where it is most

liable to rot, especially for all kinds of posts which are to be put

into the ground. Some people say, that if an iron be put into the

ground along with a pole of cedar, the iron would be half corroded by

rust in the same time that the wood would be rotten. In many places

both the fences, and the posts belonging to them, are made of red

cedar. The best canoes, consisting of a single piece of wood, are made

of red cedar; for they last longer than any others, and are very light.

In New York I have seen pretty large yachts build of red cedar. Several

yachts which go from New York to Albany, up the river Hudson, are built

in a different manner, as I have mentioned in the first volume [48]. In

Philadelphia they cannot make any yachts or other boats of red cedar,

because the quantity and the size of the trees will not allow of it.

For the same reason they do not roof their houses with red cedar

shingles; but in such places where it is plentiful, it makes excellent

good roofs. The heart of this cedar is of a fine red colour, and

whatever is made of it looks very fine, and has a very agreeable and

wholesome smell. But the colour fades by degrees, or else the wood

would be exceedingly proper for cabinet work. I saw a parlour in the

country seat of Mr. Norris, one of the Members of the Pensylvanian

House of Assembly, wainscotted many years ago with boards of red cedar.

Mr. Norris assured me that the cedar looked exceedingly well in the

beginning, but it was quite faded when I saw it, and the boards looked

very shabby, especially the boards near the window had entirely lost

their colour; so that Mr. Norris had been obliged to put mahogany in

their stead: however, I was told, that the wood will keep its colour if

a thin varnish is put upon it whilst it is fresh, and just after it has

been planed, and if care is taken that the wood is not afterwards

rubbed or hurt. At least it makes the wood keep its colour much longer

than commonly. Since it has a very pleasant smell, when fresh, some

people put the shavings and chips of it among their linen to secure it

against being worm-eaten. Some likewise get bureaus, &c. made of red

cedar, with the same view. But it is only useful for this purpose as

long as it is fresh, for it loses its smell after some time, and is

then no longer good for keeping off insects. It is sometimes sent to

England, as timber, and sells very well. In many places round

Philadelphia, in the seats of the gentry, there was commonly an avenue,

with a row of these trees planted on both sides, leading from the high

road to the house. The lower branches were cut, and only a fine crown

left. In winter, when most other trees have lost their leaves, this

looks very fine. This tree has likewise a very slow growth; for a stem,

thirteen inches and a quarter in diameter, had one hundred and

eighty-eight rings, or annual circles and another, eighteen inches in

diameter, had at least two hundred and fifty, for a great number of the

rings were so fine that they could not be counted. This tree is

propagated in the same manner as the common Juniper-tree is in Sweden,

viz. chiefly by birds, which eat the berries and emit the seeds entire.

To encourage the planting of this useful tree, a description of the

method of doing it, written by Mr. Bartram, was inserted in a

Pensylvania almanack, called Poor Richard Improved, for the year 1749.

In it was explained the manner of planting and augmenting the number of

these trees, and mention is made of some of the purposes to which they

may be employed.

In the evening I returned to Raccoon.

May the 6th. The Mulberry-trees (Morus rubra) about this time began to

blossom, but their leaves were yet very small. The people divided them

into male and female trees or flowers; and said that those which never

bore any fruit were males, and those which did, females.

Smilax laurifolia was superabundant in all the swamps near this place.

Its leaves were now beginning to come out, for it sheds them all every

winter; it climbs up along trees and shrubs, and runs across from one

tree or bush to another: by this means it shuts up the passage between

the trees, fastening itself every where with its cirrhi or tendrils,

and even on people, so that it is with the utmost difficulty one must

force a passage in the swamps and woods, where it is plentiful; the

stalk towards the bottom is full of long spines, which are as strong as

the spines of a rose-bush, and catch hold of the clothes, and tear

them: this troublesome plant may sometimes bring you into imminent

danger, when botanizing or going into the woods, for, not to mention

that the cloaths must be absolutely ruined by its numberless spines, it

occasions a deep shade in the woods, by crossing from tree to tree so

often; this forces you to stoop, and even to creep on all fours through

the little passages which are left close to the ground, and then you

cannot be careful enough to prevent a snake (of which there are numbers

here) from darting into your face. The stalk of the plant has the same

colour as the young rose-bushes. It is quite green and smooth between

the spines, so that a stranger would take it to be a kind of

thorn-bush, in winter, when it is destitute of leaves.

May the 8th. The trees hereabouts were now stocked with innumerable

Caterpillars; one kind especially was observable, which is worse than

all the others. They immediately formed great white webs, between the

branches of the trees, so that they were perceptible, even at a

distance; in each of these webs were thousands of Caterpillars, which

crept out of them afterwards, and spread chiefly upon the apple-trees.

They consumed the leaves, and often left not one on a whole branch. I

was told, that some years ago they did so much damage, that the

apple-trees and peach-trees hardly bore any fruit at all; because they

had consumed all the leaves, and exposed the naked trees to the intense

heat of the sun, by which means several of the trees died. The people

took the following method of killing these Caterpillars: They fixed

some straw or flax on a pole, set it on fire, and held it under the

webs or nests; by which a part was burnt, and a part fell to the

ground. However, numbers of the Caterpillars crept up the trees again,

which could have been prevented, if they had been trod upon, or killed

any other way. I called chickens to such places where they crept on the

ground in numbers; but they would not eat them. Nor did the wild birds

like them; for the trees were full of these webs, though whole flights

of little birds had their nests in the gardens and orchards.

May the 18th. Though it was already pretty late in May, yet the nights

were very dark here. About an hour after sun-set, it was so dark, that

it was impossible to read in a book, though the type was ever so large.

About ten o’clock, on a clear night, the dark was so much increased,

that it looked like one of the darkest star-light nights in autumn, in

Sweden. It likewise seemed to me, that though the nights were clear,

yet the stars did not give so great a light as they do in Sweden. And

as, about this time, the nights are commonly dark, and the sky covered

with clouds; so I would compare them only to dark and cloudy Swedish

winter nights. It was therefore, at this time of the year, very

difficult to travel in such cloudy nights; for neither man nor horse

could find their way. The nights, in general, seem very disagreeable to

me, in comparison to the light and glorious, summer nights of Sweden.

Ignorance sometimes makes us think slightly of our country. If other

countries have their advantages, Sweden is not destitute of matter to

boast of on this head: it likewise has its peculiar advantages; and

upon weighing the advantages and inconveniencies of different places,

Sweden will be found to be not inferior to any of them.

I will briefly mention in what points I think Sweden is preferable to

this part of America; and why I prefer Old Sweden to New Sweden.

The nights are very dark here all the summer; and in winter, they are

quite as dark, if not darker, than the winter nights in Sweden; for

here is no kind of Aurora Borealis, and the stars give a very faint

light. It is very remarkable if an Aurora Borealis appears once or

twice a year. The winters here bring no snow, to make the nights clear,

and to make travelling more safe and easy. The cold is, however,

frequently as intense as in Old Sweden. The snow which falls lies only

a few days, and always goes off with a great deal of wet. The

Rattle-snakes, Horned-snakes, red-bellied, green, and other poisonous

Snakes, against whose bite there is frequently no remedy, are in great

plenty here. To these I must add the wood-lice, with which the forests

are so pestered, that it is impossible to pass through a bush without

having a whole army of them on your cloaths, or to sit down, though the

place be ever so pleasant. The inconvenience and trouble they cause,

both to man and beast, I have described in the Memoirs of the Royal

Swedish Academy of Sciences. The weather is so inconstant here, that

when a day is most excessively hot, the next is often sensibly cold.

This sudden change often happens in one day; and few people can suffer

these changes, without impairing their health. The heat in summer is

excessive, and the cold in winter often very piercing. However, one can

always secure one’s self against the cold; but when the great heat is

of any duration, there is hardly any remedy against it. It tires one

so, that one does not know which way to turn. It has frequently

happened, that people who walked into the fields, dropped down dead, on

account of the violence of the heat. Several distempers prevail here;

and they increase every year. Nobody is left unattacked by the

intermitting fever; and many people are forced to suffer it every year,

together with other diseases. Pease cannot be sown, on account of the

insects which consume them [49]. There are worms in the grains of rye,

and numbers of them are in the cherry-trees. The caterpillars often eat

all the leaves from the trees, so that they cannot bear fruit in that

year; and numbers die every year, both of fruit-trees and forest-trees.

The grass in the meadows is likewise consumed by a kind of worms, and

another species cause the plumbs to drop, before they are half ripe.

The oak here affords not near so good timber as the European oak. The

fences cannot stand above eighteen years. The houses are of no long

duration. The meadows are poor, and what grass they have is bad. The

pasture for cattle in the forests, consists of such plants as they do

not like, and which they are compelled to eat by necessity; for it is

difficult to find a single grass in great forests, where the trees

stand far asunder, and where the soil is excellent. For this reason,

the cattle are forced, during almost the whole winter and part of the

summer, to live upon the young shoots and branches of trees, which

sometimes have no leaves: therefore, the cows give very little milk,

and decrease in size every generation. The houses are extremely unfit

for winter habitations. Hurricanes are frequent, which overthrow trees,

carry away roofs, and sometimes houses, and do a great deal of damage.

Some of these inconveniencies might be remedied by art; but others will

either admit of no alteration, or they will at least cost vast trouble.

Thus every country has its advantages, and its defects: happy is he who

can content himself with his own.

The rye grows very ill in most of the fields, which is chiefly owing to

the carelessness in agriculture, and to the poorness of the fields,

which are seldom or never manured. After the inhabitants have converted

a tract of land into fields, which had been a forest for many centuries

together, and which consequently had a very fine soil, they use it as

such, as long as it will bear any corn; and when it ceases to bear any,

they turn it into pastures for the cattle, and take new corn fields in

another place, where a fine soil can be met with, and where it has

never been made use of for this purpose. This kind of agriculture will

do for some time; but it will afterwards have bad consequences, as

every one may clearly see. A few of the inhabitants, however, treated

their fields a little better: the English in general have carried

agriculture to a higher degree of perfection than any other nation. But

the depth and richness of the soil, which those found here who came

over from England, (as they were preparing land for ploughing which had

been covered with woods from times immemorial) misled them, and made

them careless husbandmen. It is well known, that the Indians lived in

this country for several centuries before the Europeans came into it;

but it is likewise known, that they lived chiefly by hunting and

fishing, and had hardly any fields. They planted maize, and some

species of beans and gourds; and at the same time it is certain, that a

plantation of such vegetables as serve an Indian family during one

year, take up no more ground than a farmer in our country takes to

plant cabbage for his family upon; at least, a farmer’s cabbage and

turnep ground, taken together, is always as extensive, if not more so,

than the corn-fields and kitchen-gardens of an Indian family.

Therefore, the Indians could hardly subsist for one month upon the

produce of their gardens and fields. Commonly, the little villages of

Indians are about twelve or eighteen miles distant from each other.

From hence one may judge, how little ground was formerly employed for

corn-fields; and the rest was overgrown with thick and tall trees. And

though they cleared (as is yet usual) new ground, as soon as the old

one had quite lost its fertility; yet such little pieces as they made

use of were very inconsiderable, when compared to the vast forests

which remained. Thus the upper fertile soil increased considerably, for

centuries together; and the Europeans coming to America found a rich

and fine soil before them, lying as loose between the trees as the best

bed in a garden. They had nothing to do but to cut down the wood, put

it up in heaps, and to clear the dead leaves away. They could then

immediately proceed to ploughing, which in such loose ground is very

easy; and having sown their corn, they got a most plentiful harvest.

This easy method of getting a rich crop has spoiled the English and

other European inhabitants, and induced them to adopt the same method

of agriculture which the Indians make use of; that is, to sow

uncultivated grounds, as long as they will produce a crop without

manuring, but to turn them into pastures as soon as they can bear no

more, and to take in hand new spots of ground, covered since time

immemorial with woods, which have been spared by the fire or the

hatchet ever since the creation. This is likewise the reason why

agriculture, and the knowledge of this useful branch, is so imperfect

here, that one can learn nothing on a great tract of land, neither of

the English, nor of the Swedes, Germans, Dutch, and French; except

that, from their gross mistakes and carelessness for futurity, one

finds opportunities every day of making all sorts of observations, and

of growing wise at the expence of other people. In a word, the

corn-fields, the meadows, the forests, the cattle, &c. are treated with

equal carelessness; and the English nation, so well skilled in these

branches of husbandry, is with difficulty found out here. We can hardly

be more lavish of our woods in Sweden and Finland than they are here:

their eyes are fixed upon the present gain, and they are blind to

futurity. Every day their cattle are harassed by labour, and each

generation decreases in goodness and size, by being kept short of food,

as I have before mentioned. On my travels in this country I observed

several plants, which the horses and cows preferred to all others. They

were wild in this country, and likewise grew well on the driest and

poorest ground, where no other plants would succeed. But the

inhabitants did not know how to turn this to their advantage; owing to

the little account made of Natural History, that science being here (as

in other parts of the world) looked upon as a mere trifle, and the

pastime of fools. I am certain, and my certainty is founded upon

experience, that by means of these plants, in the space of a few years,

I have been able to turn the poorest ground, which would hardly afford

food for a cow, into the richest and most fertile meadow, where great

flocks of cattle have found superfluous food, and are grown fat upon. I

own, that these useful plants were not to be found on the grounds of

every planter: but with a small share of natural knowledge, a man would

easily collect them in the places where they were to be got. I was

astonished, when I heard the country people complaining of the badness

of the pastures; but I likewise perceived their negligence, and often

saw excellent plants growing on their own grounds, which only required

a little more attention and assistance from their unexperienced owners.

I found every where the wisdom and goodness of the Creator; but too

seldom saw any acknowledgment, or adequate estimation of it, among men.

O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norint,

Agricolas!

Virg. Georgic.

I have been led to these reflections, which may perhaps seem foreign to

my purpose, by the bad and neglected state of agriculture in every part

of this continent. I likewise intended to shew the reason why this

journal is so thinly stocked with œconomical advantages in the several

branches of husbandry. I do not however deny, that I have sometimes

found one or two skilful œconomists, but they were very scarce.

Birds of prey which pursue the poultry are found in abundance here, and

if possible more plentiful than in Sweden. They enjoy great liberty

here, as there are still great forests in many places, from whence they

can come unawares upon chickens and ducks. To the birds of prey it is

quite indifferent whether the woods consist of good or bad trees,

provided they are in shade. At night the owls, which are very numerous,

endanger the safety of the tame fowls. They live chiefly in marshes,

give a disagreeable shriek at night, and attack the chickens, which

commonly roost at night in the apple-trees, peach-trees, and

cherry-trees, in the garden. But since they are very busy in clearing

this country of woods, as we are in Sweden and Finland, it may be of

use for exposing the birds of prey, more than they are now, and for

depriving them of the opportunities of doing mischief with so much

ease.

The thick forests of America contain numbers of stags; they do not seem

to be a different species from the European stags. An Englishman was

possessed of a tame hind. It is observable that though these creatures

are very shy when wild in the woods and the cedar swamps, which are

very much frequented by them, yet they can be tamed to such a degree,

if taken young, that they will come of their own accord to people, and

even to strangers: This hind was caught when it was but very little;

the colour of the whole body was a dirty reddish brown, the belly and

the under side of the tail excepted, which were white; the ears were

grey; the head, towards the snout, was very narrow, but upon the whole

the creature looked very fine. The hair lay close together, and was

quite short; the tail reached almost to the bend of the knee, near

which, on the inside of each hind-foot, was a knob or callus. The

possessor of the hind said, that he had tamed several stags, by

catching them whilst they were very young. It was now big with young

ones. It had a little bell hung about its neck, that by walking in the

woods, the people might know it to be tame, and take care not to shoot

it. It was at liberty to go where it pleased, and to keep it confined

would have been a pretty hard task, as it could leap over the highest

enclosures. Sometimes it went far into the woods, and frequently staid

away a night or two, but afterwards returned home like other cattle.

When it went into the woods, it was often accompanied by wild stags,

and decoyed them even into the very houses, especially in rutting time,

giving its master numerous opportunities of shooting the wild stags,

almost at his door. Its scent was excellent, and when it was turned

towards the wind, I often saw it rising and looking towards that part,

though I did not see any people on the road, but they commonly appeared

about an hour after. As soon as the wild stags have the scent of a man,

they make off. In winter the man fed the hind with corn and hay; but in

summer it went out into the woods and meadows, seeking its own food,

eating both grass and other plants: it was now kept in a meadow; it did

chiefly eat clover, the leaves of hiccory, of the Andromeda paniculata,

and the Geranium maculatum. It was likewise contented with the leaves

of the common plantane, or Plantaga, grasses, and several other plants.

The possessor of this hind sold stags to people in Philadelphia, who

sent them as curiosities to other places. He got twenty-five, thirty,

and forty shillings a-piece for them. The food of the wild stags in

summer is grass and several plants; but in winter, when they are not to

be got, they eat the shoots and young sprigs of branches. I have

already mentioned [50] that they eat without any danger the spoon-tree,

or Kalmia latifolia, which is poison to other animals. In the long and

severe winter, which commenced here upon the tenth of December, 1740,

and continued to the thirteenth of March, old stile, during the course

of which there fell a great quantity of snow, the stags were found dead

in the snow, but chiefly higher up the country, where the snow was

deeper. Nobody could determine whether their death was the consequence

of the great quantity and depth of snow, which hindered their getting

out, or whether the frost had been too severe, and of too long

duration, or whether they were short of food. The old people likewise

relate, that vast numbers of stags came down in the year 1705, when

there was a heavy fall of snow, near a yard deep, and that they were

afterwards found dead in the woods, in great numbers, because the snow

was deeper than they could pass through. Numbers of birds were likewise

found dead at that time. In that same winter, a stag came to Matsong

into the stables, and ate hay together with the cattle. It was so

pinched by hunger, that it grew tame immediately, and did not run away

from people. It afterwards continued in the house, as another tame

creature. All aged persons asserted, that formerly this country

abounded more with stags than it does at present. It was formerly not

uncommon to see thirty or forty of them in a flock together. The reason

of their decrease is chiefly owing to the increase of population, the

destruction of the woods, and the number of people who kill and

frighten the stags at present. However, high up in the country, in

great forests and desarts, there are yet great numbers of them. Among

their enemies is the Lynx of this country, which is the same with the

Swedish one [51]. They climb up the trees, and when the stags pass by,

they dart down upon him, get fast hold, bite, and suck the blood, and

never give over till they have killed it.

I saw several holes in the ground, both on hills and on fields, and

fallow grounds; they were round, and commonly about an inch wide; they

went almost perpendicularly into the earth, and were made by

dung-beetles, or by great worms, which are made use of for angling. The

dung-beetles had dug very deep into the ground, thro’ horse-dung, tho’

it lay on the hardest road, so that a great heap of earth lay near it.

These holes were afterwards occupied by other insects, especially

grasshoppers, (Grylli) and Cicadæ; for by digging these holes up, I

commonly found one or more young ones of these insects, which had not

yet got their perfect size.

May the 19th. This morning I left Raccoon, a parish in the country

called New Sweden, and which is yet chiefly inhabited by Swedes, in

order to proceed in my travels to the North. I first intended to set

out with the beginning of April, but for several reasons this was not

adviseble. No leaves were come out at that time, and hardly any flowers

appeared. I did not know what flowers grew here in spring; for the

autumnal plants are different from the vernal ones. The Swedes had this

winter told me the œconomical and medical uses of many plants, to which

they gave names unknown to me: they could not then shew me those plants

on account of the season, and by their deficient and erroneous

descriptions, I was not able to guess what plants they meant. By going

away so early as the beginning of April, I would have remained in

uncertainty in regard to these things. It was therefore fit, that I

should spend a part of the spring at Raccoon, especially as I had still

time enough left for my tour to the North.

On the road we saw a Black Snake, which we killed, and found just five

foot long. Catesby has described it and its qualities, and also drawn

it [52]. The full-grown Black Snakes are commonly about five feet long,

but very slender; the thickest I ever saw was in the broadest part

hardly three inches thick; the back is black, shining, and smooth; the

chin white and smooth; the belly whitish turning into blue, shining,

and very smooth; I believe there are some varieties of this snake. One

which was nineteen inches long, had a hundred and eighty-six scales on

the belly, (Scuta Abdominalia) and ninety-two half scales on the tail

(Squamæ subcaudales), which I found to be true, by a repeated counting

of the scales. Another, which was seventeen inches and a half in

length, had a hundred and eighty-four scales on the belly, and only

sixty-four half scales on the tail; this I likewise assured myself of,

by counting the scales over again. It is possible that the end of this

last snake’s tail was cut off, and the wound healed up again [53].

The country abounds with Black Snakes. They are among the first that

come out in spring, and often appear very early if warm weather

happens; but if it grows cold again after that, they are quite frozen,

and lie stiff and torpid on the ground or on the ice; when taken in

this state and put before a fire, they revive in less than an hour’s

time. It has sometimes happened, when the beginning of January is very

warm, that they come out of their winter habitations. They commonly

appear about the end of March, old style.

This is the swiftest of all the snakes which are to be found here, for

it moves so quick, that a dog can hardly catch it. It is therefore

almost impossible for a man to escape it if pursued: but happily its

bite is neither poisonous nor any way dangerous; many people have been

bit by it in the woods, and have scarce felt any more inconvenience

than if they had been wounded by a knife; the wounded place only

remains painful for some time. The Black Snakes seldom do any harm,

except in spring, when they copulate; but if any body comes in their

way at that time, they are so much vexed, as to pursue him as fast as

they can. If they meet with a person who is afraid of them, he is in

great distress. I am acquainted with several people, who have on such

an occasion run so hard as to be quite out of breath, in endeavouring

to escape the snake, which moved with the swiftness of an arrow after

them. If a person thus pursued can muster up courage enough to oppose

the snake with a stick or any thing else, when it is either passed by

him, or when he steps aside to avoid it, it will turn back again, and

seek a refuge in its swiftness. It is, however, sometimes bold enough

to run directly upon a man, and not to depart before it has received a

good stroke. I have been assured by several, that when it overtakes a

person, who has tried to escape it, and who has not courage enough to

oppose it, it winds round his feet, so as to make him fall down; it

then bites him several times in the leg, or whatever part it can get

hold of, and goes off again. I shall mention two circumstances, which

confirm what I have said. During my stay in New York, Dr. Colden told

me, that in the spring, 1748, he had several workmen at his country

seat, and among them one lately arrived from Europe, who of course knew

very little of the qualities of the Black Snake. The other workmen

seeing a great Black Snake copulating with its female, engaged the new

comer to go and kill it, which he intended to do with a little stick.

But on approaching the place where the snakes lay, they perceived him,

and the male in great wrath leaves his pleasure to pursue the fellow

with amazing swiftness; he little expected such courage in the snake,

and flinging away his stick, began to run as fast as he was able. The

snake pursued him, overtook him, and twisting several times round his

feet, threw him down, and frightened him almost out of his senses; he

could not get rid of the snake, till he took a knife and cut it through

in two of three places. The other Workmen were rejoiced at this sight,

and laughed at it, without offering to help their companion. Many

people at Albany told me of an accident which happened to a young lady,

who went out of town in summer, together with many other girls,

attended by her negro. She sat down in the wood, in a place where the

others were running about, and before she was aware, a Black Snake

being disturbed in its amours, ran under her petticoats, and twisted

round her waist, so that she fell backwards in a swoon occasioned by

her fright, or by the compression which the snake caused. The negro

came up to her, and suspecting that a Black Snake might have hurt her,

on making use of a remedy to bring his lady to herself again, he lifted

up her cloaths, and really found the snake wound about her body as

close as possible; the negro was not able to tear it away, and

therefore cut it, and the girl came to herself again; but she conceived

so great an aversion to the negro, that she could not bear the sight of

him afterwards, and died of a consumption. At other times of the year

this snake is more apt to run away, than to attack people. However I

have heard it asserted frequently, that even in summer when its time of

copulation is past, it pursues people, especially children, if it finds

that they are afraid and run from her. Several people likewise assured

me from their own experience, that it may be provoked to pursue people,

if they throw at it, and then run away. I cannot well doubt of this, as

I have heard it said by numbers of creditable people; but I could never

succeed in provoking them. I ran always away on perceiving it, or flung

something at it, and then took to my heels, but I could never bring the

snakes to pursue me: I know not for what reason they shunned me, unless

they took me for an artful seducer.

Most of the people in this country ascribed to this snake a power of

fascinating birds and squirrels, as I have described in several parts

of my Journal [54]. When the snake lies under a tree, and has fixed his

eyes on a bird or squirrel above; it obliges them to come down, and to

go directly into its mouth. I cannot account for this, for I never saw

it done. However, I have a list of more than twenty persons, among

which are some of the most creditable people, who have all unanimously,

though living far distant from each other, asserted the same thing;

they allured me upon their honor, that they have seen (at several

times) these Black Snakes fascinating squirrels and birds which sat on

the tops of trees, the snake lying at the foot of the tree, with its

eyes fixed upon the bird or squirrel, which sits above it, and utters a

doleful note; from which it is easy to conclude with certainty that it

is about to be fascinated, though you cannot see it. The bird or

squirrel runs up and down along the tree continuing its plaintive song,

and always comes nearer the snake, whose eyes are unalterably fixed

upon it. It should seem as if these poor creatures endeavoured to

escape the snake, by hopping or running up the tree; but there appears

to be a power which withholds them: they are forced downwards, and each

time that they turn back, they approach nearer their enemy, till they

are at last forced to leap into its mouth, which stands wide open for

that purpose. Numbers of squirrels and birds are continually running

and hopping fearless in the woods on the ground, where the snakes ly in

wait for them, and can easily give these poor creatures a mortal bite.

Therefore it seems that this fascination might be thus interpreted,

that the creature has first got a mortal wound from the snake, which is

sure of her bite, and lies quiet, being assured that the wounded

creature has been poisoned with the bite, or at least feels pain from

the violence of the bite, and that it will at last be obliged to come

down into its mouth. The plaintive note is perhaps occasioned by the

acuteness of the pain which the wound gives the creature. But to this

it may be objected, that the bite of the Black Snake is not poisonous;

it may further be objected, that if the snake could come near enough to

a bird or squirrel to give it a mortal bite, it might as easily keep

hold of it, or, as it sometimes does with poultry, twist round and

strangle or stifle it. But the chief objection which lies against this

interpretation, is the following account, which I received from the

most creditable people, who have assured me of it. The squirrel being

upon the point of running into the snake’s mouth, the spectators have

not been able to let it come to that pitch, but killed the snake, and

as soon as it had got a mortal blow, the squirrel or bird destined for

destruction, flew away, and left off their moanful note, as if they had

broke loose from a net. Some say, that if they only touched the snake,

so as to draw off its attention from the squirrel, it went off quickly,

not stopping till it had got to a great distance. Why do the squirrels

or birds go away so suddenly, and why no sooner? If they had been

poisoned or bitten by the snake before, so as not to be able to get

from the tree, and to be forced to approach the snake always more and

more, they could however not get new strength by the snake being killed

or diverted. Therefore, it seems that they are only enchanted, whilst

the snake has its eyes fixed on them. However, this looks odd and

unaccountable, though many of the worthiest and most reputable people

have related it, and though it is so universally believed here, that to

doubt it would be to expose one’s self to general laughter.

The black snakes kill the smaller species of frogs, and eat them. If

they get at eggs of poultry, or of other birds, they make holes in

them, and suck the contents. When the hens are sitting on the eggs,

they creep into the nest, wind round the birds, stifle them, and suck

the eggs. Mr. Bartram asserted, that he had often seen this snake creep

up into the tallest trees, after bird’s eggs, or young birds, always

with the head foremost, when descending. A Swede told me, that a black

snake had once got the head of one of his hens in its mouth, and was

wound several times round the body, when he came and killed the snake.

The hen was afterwards as well as ever.

This snake is very greedy of milk, and it is difficult to keep it out,

when it is once used to go into a cellar where milk is kept. It has

been seen eating milk out of the same dish with children, without

biting them, though they often gave it blows with the spoon upon the

head, when it was overgreedy. I never heard it hissing. It can raise

more than one half of its body from the ground, in order to look about

her. It skins every year; and its skin is said to be a remedy against

the cramp, if continually worn about the body.

The rye was now beginning to flower.

I have often observed with astonishment, on my travels, the great

difference between the plants and the soil, on the two opposite banks

of brooks. Sometimes a brook, which one can stride over, has plants on

one bank widely different from those on the opposite bank. Therefore,

whenever I came to a great brook or a river, I expected to find plants

which I had not met with before. Their seeds are carried down with the

stream from distant parts. The soil is likewise very often different on

the different sides of a rivulet, being rich and fertile on the one,

and dry, barren, and sandy on the other. But a great river can make

still greater differences. Thus we see the great disparity between the

province of Pensylvania, and New Jersey, which are only divided by the

river Delaware. In Pensylvania the soil consists of a mould mixed with

sand and clay, and is very rich and fertile: and in the woods which are

higher in the country, the ground is mountainous and stony. On the

other hand, in the province of New Jersey, the soil is poor and dry,

and not very fertile, some parts excepted. You can hardly find a stone

in New Jersey, and much less mountains. In Pensylvania you scarce ever

see a fir-tree, and in New Jersey are whole woods of it.

This evening I arrived at Philadelphia.

May the 22d. The locusts began to creep out of their holes in the

ground last night, and continued to do so to-day. As soon as their

wings were dry, they began their song, which is almost sufficient to

make one deaf, when travelling through the woods. This year there was

an immense number of them. I have given a minute account of them, of

their food, qualities, &c. in the Memoirs of the Swedish Royal Academy

of Sciences [55]; it is therefore needless to repeat it here, and I

refer the reader to the quoted place.

May the 25th. The tulip-tree (Liriodendron tulipifera) was now in full

blossom. The flowers have a resemblance to tulips, and look very fine,

and though they have not a very agreeable smell, yet the eye is pleased

to see trees as tall as full-grown oaks, covered with tulip-like

flowers.

On the flowers of the tulip-tree was an olive-coloured Chafer

(Scarabæus) without horns (muticus), the future and borders of his

wing-shells (Elytræ) were black, and his thighs brown. I cannot with

certainty say whether they collected the pollen of the flower, or

whether they coupled. Later in summer, I saw the same kind of beetles

make deep holes into the ripe mulberries, either to eat them, or to lay

their eggs in them. I likewise found them abundant in the leaves of the

Magnolia glauca, or beaver-tree.

The strawberries were now ripe on the hills.

The country people already brought ripe cherries up to town; but they

were only a few to satisfy curiosity, yet we may form a judgment of the

climate from hence.

May the 26th. A peculiar kind of storm called a Travat, or Travado,

happened to-day. In the evening about ten o’clock, when the sky was

quite clear, a thick, black cloud came rushing from the south-west,

with a wind. The air was quite calm, and we could not feel any breeze.

But the approach of this cloud was perceived from the strong rushing

noise in the woods to the south-west, and which encreased in proportion

as the cloud came nearer. As soon as it was come up to us, it was

attended by a violent gust of wind, which in its course threw down the

weaker enclosures, carried them a good way along with it, and broke

down several trees. It was then followed by a hard shower of rain,

which put an end to the storm, and every thing was calm as before.

These travadoes are frequent in summer, and have the quality of cooling

the air. However, they often do a deal of damage. They are commonly

attended by thunder and lightning; as soon as they are passed over, the

sky is as clear as it was before.

May the 28th. The Magnolia glauca was now in full bloom. Its flowers

have a very pleasant fragrancy, which refreshes the travellers in the

woods, especially towards the evening. The flowers of the wild vine

afterwards supplied the place of those of the Magnolia. Several other

flowers contribute likewise towards perfuming the ambient air.

The Kalmia angustifolia was now every where in flower. It grows chiefly

on sandy heaths, or on dry poor grounds, which few other plants will

agree with; it is common in Pensylvania, but particularly in New

Jersey, and the province of New York, it is scarce in Canada; its

leaves stay the winter; the flowers are a real ornament to the woods;

they grow in bunches like crowns, and are of a fine lively purple

colour; at the bottom is a circle of deep purple, and within it a

greyish or whitish colour. The flowers grow as aforesaid, in bunches,

round the extremity of the stalk, and make it look like a decorated

pyramid. The English at New York call this plant the Dwarf Laurel. Its

qualities are the same with those of the Kalmia latifolia, viz. that it

kills sheep and other lesser animals, when they eat plentifully of it.

I do not know whether it is noxious to the greater cattle. It is not of

any known use, and only serves to attract the eye whilst in flower.

The Kalmia latifolia was likewise in full blossom at present. It rivals

the preceding one, in the beauty of its colour; yet though they are

conspicuous in regard to the colours and shape of their flowers, they

are no ways remarkable for smell, such as the Magnolia is; for they

have little or no smell at all. So equally and justly does nature

distribute her gifts; no part of the creation has them all, each has

its own, and none is absolutely without a share of them.

May the 30th. The Moravian Brethren, who arrived in great numbers from

Europe, at New York, in May, brought two converted Greenlanders with

them. The Moravians who were already settled in America, immediately

sent some of their brethren from Philadelphia to the new comers, in

order to welcome them. Among these deputies were two North American

Indians, who had been converted to their doctrine, and likewise two

South American Indians, from Surinam. These three kinds of converted

Indians accordingly met at New York. I had no opportunity of seeing

them; but all those who had seen them, and whom I conversed with,

thought that they had plainly perceived a similarity in their features

and shape, the Greenlanders being only somewhat smaller. They concluded

from hence, that all these three kinds of Americans were the posterity

of one and the same descendant of Noah, or that they were perhaps yet

more nearly related. How far their guesses are to be relied upon, I

cannot determine.

Ripe cherries were now already pretty common, and consequently cheap.

Yams are a species of roots, which are cultivated in the hottest parts

of America, for eating, as we do potatoes. It has not yet been

attempted to plant them here, and they are brought from the West Indies

in ships; therefore they are reckoned a rarity here, and as such I ate

them at Dr. Franklin’s to-day. They are white, and taste like common

potatoes, but not quite so agreeable; and I think it would not be worth

while to plant them in Sweden, though they might bear the climate. The

plant these roots belong to is the Dioscorea alata.

The inhabitants make plenty of cheese. They are not reckoned so good as

English cheese: however, some take them to be full as good when old;

and so they seemed to me. A man from Boston in New-England told me,

that they made very good cheese there: but they take care to keep the

cattle from salt water, especially those who live near the sea-coasts;

for it has been found, that the cheese will not become so good when the

cows graze near salt water, as it will when they have fresh water.

This, however, wants nearer examination, in my opinion.

May the 31st. About noon I left Philadelphia, and went on board a small

yacht, which sails continually up and down upon the river Delaware,

between Trenton and Philadelphia. We sailed up the river with fair wind

and weather. Sturgeons leaped often a fathom into the air. We saw them

continuing this exercise all day, till we came to Trenton. The banks on

the Pensylvanian side were low; and those on the New Jersey side steep

and sandy, but not very high. On both sides we perceived forests of

tall trees, with deciduous leaves.

During the course of this month, the forenoon was always calm; but

immediately after noon it began to blow gently, and sometimes pretty

strongly. This morning was likewise fair; and in the afternoon it was

cloudy, but did not rain.

The banks of the river were sometimes high, and sometimes low. We saw

some small houses near the shore, in the woods; and, now and then, a

good house built of stone. The river now decreased visibly in breadth.

About three o’clock this afternoon we passed Burlington.

Burlington, the chief town in the province of New Jersey, and the

residence of the governor, is but a small town, about twenty miles from

Philadelphia, on the eastern side of the Delaware. The houses were

chiefly built of stone, though they stood far distant from each other.

The town has a good situation, since ships of considerable burden can

sail close up to it: but Philadelphia prevents its carrying on an

extensive trade; for the proprietors of that place [56] have granted it

great immunities, by which it is increased so as to swallow all the

trade of the adjacent towns. The house of the governor at Burlington is

but a small one: it is built of stone, close by the river side, and is

the first building in the town as you come from Philadelphia. It is

observed, that about the full moons, when the tides are highest, and

the high water at Cape Hinlopen comes at nine o’clock in the morning,

it will be at Chester, on the river Delaware, about ten minutes after

one o’clock; at Philadelphia, about ten minutes after two o’clock; and

at Burlington, about ten minutes after three o’clock; for the tide in

the river Delaware comes quite up to Trenton. These observations were

communicated to me by Mr. Lewis Evans.

The banks of the river were now chiefly high and steep on the side of

New Jersey, consisting of a pale brick-coloured soil. On the

Pensylvanian side, they were gently sloping, and consisted of a

blackish rich mould, mixed with particles of Glimmer (Mica). On the New

Jersey side appeared some firs; but seldom on the other, except in a

few places where they were accidentally brought over from New Jersey.

Towards night, after the tide had begun to ebb and the wind was quite

subsided, we could not proceed, but dropped our anchor about seven

miles from Trenton, and passed the night there. The woods were full of

Fireflies, (Lampyris) which flew like sparks of fire between the trees,

and sometimes across the river. In the marshes, the Bullfrogs now and

then began their hideous roaring; and more than a hundred of them

roared together. The Whip-poor-will, or Goatsucker, was likewise heard

every where.

June the 1st. We continued our voyage this morning, after the rain was

over. The river Delaware was very narrow here, and the banks the same

as we found them yesterday, after we had passed Burlington. About eight

o’clock in the morning we arrived at Trenton [57].

June the 2d. This morning we left Trenton, and proceeded towards New

York. The country I have described before [58]. The fields were sown

with wheat, rye, maize, oats, hemp, and flax. In several places, we saw

very large pieces of ground with hemp.

We saw abundance of chesnut-trees in the woods. They often stood in

excessive poor ground, which was neither too dry nor too wet.

Tulip-trees did not appear on the road; but the people said there were

some in the woods.

The Beaver-tree (Magnolia glauca) grows in the swamps. It was now in

flower, and the fragrancy of its blossoms had so perfumed the air, that

one could enjoy it before one approached the swamps; and this fine

smell likewise shewed that a beaver-tree was near us, though we often

happened not to see it.

The Phlox Glaberrima grows abundantly in the woods, and cuts a fine

figure with its red flowers. It grows in such soil here as in Europe is

occupied by the Lychnis viscaria and Lychnis dioica, or red Catchfly

and Campion. The Phlox maculata grows abundantly in wet ground, and has

fine red and odoriferous flowers. It grows on low meadows, where in

Europe the Meadow-pinks, or Lychnis flos cuculi, would be met with. By

adding to these flowers the Bartsia coccinea, the Lobelia cardinalis,

and the Monarda didyma, which grow wild in this country, they are

undoubtedly altogether adorned with the finest red imaginable.

The Sassafras-tree was abundant in the woods, and near the inclosures.

The houses which we passed by were most of them wooden. In one place, I

saw the people building a house with walls of mere clay, which is

likewise employed in making ovens for baking.

Buckwheat was already coming up in several places. We saw single plants

of it all day in the woods, and in the fields, but always by the side

of the road; from whence it may be concluded, that they spring up from

lost and scattered seeds.

Late this evening we arrived at New Brunswick [59].

June the 3d. At noon we went on board a yacht bound for New York, and

sailed down the river, which had at first pretty high and steep banks,

of red sandstone, on each side, which I have mentioned before. [60] Now

and then, there was a farm-house on the high shore. As we came lower

down, we saw on both sides great fields and meadows, close up to the

water. We could not sail at random with the yacht; for the river was

often shallow in some places, and sometimes in the very middle. For

that purpose, the course which we were to take was marked out by

branches with leaves on them. At last we got into the sea, which

bounded our prospect on the south; but on the other side, we were

continually in sight of land at some distance. On coming to the mouth

of the river, we had a choice of two roads to New York; viz. either

within the Staten Island, or without it. The inhabitants are determined

in their choice by the weather; for when it is stormy and cloudy, or

dark, they do not venture to sail without, where the sea itself

communicates. We took that course now, it being very pleasant weather;

and though we struck on the sands once or twice, yet we got loose

again, and arrived at New York about nine o’clock. Of this town I have

given an account in the preceding volume [61].

June the 4th. I found vines in several gardens, got from the old

countries. They bear annually a quantity of excellent grapes. When the

winters are very severe, they are killed by the frost, and die quite to

the ground; but the next spring new shoots spring up from the root.

Strawberries were now sold in abundance about the town every day. An

Englishman from Jamaica asserted, that in that island there were no

strawberries. The snakes are very fond of strawberries. Those which

they had here were not so good as the Swedish and Finland ones.

Red Clover was sown in several places on the hills without the town.

The country people were now employed in mowing the meadows. Some were

already mown; and the dry clover was put under cover, in order to be

carried away the first opportunity.

Cherry-trees were planted in great quantities before the farm-houses,

and along the high-roads, from Philadelphia to New Brunswick; but

behind that place they became more scarce. On coming to Staten Island,

in the province of New York, I found them very common again, near the

gardens. Here are not so many varieties of cherries as there are in

Pensylvania. I seldom saw any of the black sweet cherries [62] at New

York; but commonly the sour red ones. All travellers are allowed to

pluck ripe fruit in any garden which they pass by; and not even the

most covetous farmer can hinder them from so doing. Between New

Brunswick and Staten Island, are a few cherry-gardens; but

proportionably more orchards, with apple-trees.

June the 6th. Several gentlemen and merchants, between fifty and sixty

years of age, asserted, that during their life they had plainly found

several kinds of fish decrease in number every year; and that they

could not get near so many fish now as they could formerly.

Rum, a brandy prepared from the sugar-canes, and in great use with all

the English North American colonies, is reckoned much wholesomer than

brandy, made from wine or corn [63]. In confirmation of this opinion,

they say, that if you put a piece of fresh meat into rum, and another

into brandy, and leave them there for some months; that in the rum will

keep as it was, but that in the brandy will be quite eaten, and full of

holes. But this experiment does not seem a very accurate one to me.

Major Roderfort told me, that being upon the Canada expedition, he had

observed, that such of his men as drank brandy for some time died of

it; but those who drank rum were not hurt, though they got drunk with

it every day, and oftener than the others.

Long-Island is the name of an island opposite the town of New York, in

the sea. The northern part of the island is much more fertile than the

southern. Formerly there lived a number of Indians on this island; and

there are yet some, which however decrease in number every year,

because they leave the island. The soil of the southern part of the

island is very poor; but this deficiency is made up by a vast quantity

of oysters, lobsters, crabs, several kinds of fish, and numbers of

water fowl, all which are there far more abundant than on the northern

shores of the Island. Therefore the Indians formerly chose the southern

part to live in, because they subsisted on oysters, and other

productions of the sea. When the tide is out, it is very easy to fill a

whole cart with oysters, which have been driven on shore by one flood.

The Island is strewed with oystershells and other shells, which the

Indians left there; these shells serve now for good manure for the

fields. The southern part of the Island is turned into meadows, and the

northern part into fields. The winter is more constant on the northern

part, and the snow in spring lies longer there than on the southern

part. The people are very fertile here, and commonly tall and strong.

June the 10th. At noon we left New York, and sailed up the river

Hudson, in a yacht bound for Albany. All this afternoon we saw a whole

fleet of little boats returning from New York, whither they had brought

provisions and other goods for sale, which on account of the extensive

commerce of this town, and the great number of its inhabitants, go off

very well. The river Hudson runs from North to South here, except some

high pieces of land which sometimes project far into it, and alter its

direction; its breadth at the mouth is reckoned about a mile and a

quarter. Some porpesses played and tumbled in the river. The eastern

shore, or the New York side, was at first very steep and high; but the

western was very sloping and covered with woods. There appeared

farm-houses on both sides, surrounded with corn-fields. The ground of

which the steep shores consisted was of a pale brick colour, and some

little rocks of a grey sand-stone were seen here and there. About ten

or twelve miles from New York, the western shore appears quite

different from what it was before; it consists of steep mountains with

perpendicular sides towards the river, and they are exactly like the

steep sides of the mountains of Hall and Hunnebarg in West Gothland.

Sometimes a rock projects like the salliant angle of a bastion: the

tops of these mountains are covered with oaks, and other wood; a number

of stones of all sizes lay along the shore, having rolled down from the

mountains.

These high and steep mountains continue for some English miles on the

western shore; but on the eastern side the land is high, and sometimes

diversified with hills and valleys, which are commonly covered with

deciduous trees, amongst which there appears a farm now and then in a

glade. The hills are covered with stones in some places. About twelve

miles from New York we saw Sturgeons [64] (Acipenser Sturio), leaping

up out of the water, and on the whole passage we met with porpesses in

the river. As we proceeded we found the eastern banks of the river very

much cultivated; and a number of pretty farms surrounded with orchards

and fine corn-fields, presented themselves to our view. About

twenty-two miles from New York, the high mountains which I have before

mentioned left us, and made as it were a high ridge here from east to

west quite across the country. This altered the face of the country on

the western shore of the river: from mountainous, it became

interspersed with little vallies and round hillocks, which were scarce

inhabited at all; but the eastern shore continued to afford us a

delightful prospect. After sailing a little while in the night, we cast

our anchor and lay here till the morning, especially as the tide was

ebbing with great force.

June the 11th. This morning we continued our voyage up the river, with

the tide and a faint breeze. We now passed the Highland mountains,

which were to the East of us; they consist of a grey sandstone, are

very high and pretty steep, and covered with deciduous trees, and

likewise with firs and red cedars. The western shore was full of rocks,

which however did not come up to the height of the mountains on the

opposite shore; the tops of these eastern mountains were cut off from

our sight by a thick fog which surrounded them. The country was unfit

for cultivation, being so full of rocks, and accordingly we saw no

farms. The distance from these mountains to New York is computed at

thirty-six English miles.

A thick fog now rose up from the high mountains. For the space of some

English miles, we had hills and rocks on the western banks of the

river; and a change of lesser and greater mountains and vallies covered

with young firs, red cedars, and oaks, on the eastern side. The hills

close to the river side are commonly low, but their height increases as

they are further from the river. Afterwards we saw, for some miles

together, nothing but high round mountains and valleys, both covered

with woods; the valleys are in reality nothing but low rocks, and stand

perpendicular towards the river in many places. The breadth of the

river is sometimes two or three musket shot, but commonly not above

one; every now and then we saw several kinds of fish leaping out of the

water. The wind vanished away about ten o’clock in the morning, and

forced us to get forwards with our oars, the tide being almost spent.

In one place on the western shore we saw a wooden house painted red,

and we were told, that there was a saw-mill further up; but besides

this we did not perceive one farm or any cultivated grounds all this

forenoon.

The water in the river has here no more a brackish taste; yet I was

told that the tide, especially when the wind is South, sometimes

carries the salt water up higher with it. The colour of the water was

likewise altered, for it appeared darker here than before. To account

for the first origin of rivers is very difficult, if not wholly

impossible; some rivers may have come from a great reservoir of water,

which being considerably encreased by heavy falls of rain or other

circumstances, passed its old bounds and flowed to the lower countries,

through the places where it met with the least opposition. This is

perhaps the reason why some rivers run in so many bendings equally

through fields of soft earth, as likewise there, where mountains,

rocks, and stones, divert their passage. However it seems that some

rivers derive their first origin from the creation itself, and that

Providence then pointed out their course; for their existence can, in

all probability, not be owing to the accidental eruption of water

alone. Among these rivers we may rank the river Hudson: I was surprised

on seeing its course, and the variety of its shores. It takes its rise

a good way above Albany, and descends to New York, in a direct line

from North to South, which is a distance of about a hundred and sixty

English miles, and perhaps more; for the little bendings which it makes

are of no signification. In many places between New York and Albany,

are ridges of high mountains running West and East. But it is

remarkable that they go on undisturbed till they come to the river

Hudson, which cuts directly across them, and frequently their sides

stand perpendicular towards the river. There is an opening left in the

chain of mountains, as broad as the river commonly is, for it to pass

through, and the mountains go on as before, on the other side, in the

same direction. It is likewise remarkable, that the river in such

places where it passes through the mountains is as deep, and often

deeper than in the other places. The perpendicular rocks on the sides

of the river are surprising, and it appears that if no passages had

been opened by Providence, for the river to pass through, the mountains

in the upper part of the country would have been inundated, since these

mountains, like so many dykes, would have hindered the water from going

on. Quere, Why does this river go on in a direct line for so

considerable a distance? Why do the many passages, through which the

river flows across the mountains, ly under the same meridian? Why are

water-falls near some of these passages, or at least shallow water with

a rocky ground?

We now perceived excessive high and steep mountains on both sides of

the river, which echoed back each sound we uttered. Yet notwithstanding

they were so high and steep, they were covered with small trees.

The Blue Mountains, which reared their towering tops above all the

other mountains, were now seen before us, towards North, but at a great

distance.

The country began here to look more cultivated, and less mountainous.

The last of the high western mountains is called Butterhill, after

which the country between the mountains grows more spacious. The farms

became very numerous, and we had a prospect of many corn-fields,

between the hills: before we passed these hills we had the wind in our

face, and we could only get forward by tacking, which went very slow,

as the river was hardly a musket-shot in breadth. Afterwards we cast

anchor, because we had both wind and tide against us.

Whilst we waited for the return of tide and the change of wind, we went

on shore.

The Sassafras-tree (Laurus Sassafras) and the chesnut-tree grows here

in great abundance. I found the tulip-tree (Liriodendron tulipifera) in

some parts of the wood, as likewise the Kalmia latifolia, which was now

in full blossom; though the flowers were already withering.

Some time after noon the wind arose from South-west, which being a fair

wind, we weighed anchor, and continued our voyage. The place where we

lay at anchor, was just the end of those steep and amazing high

mountains: their height is very amazing; they consist of grey rock

stone, and close to them, on the shore, lay a vast number of little

stones. As soon as we had passed these mountains, the country became

clearer of mountains, and higher. The river likewise encreased in

breadth, so as to be near an English mile broad. After sailing for some

time, we found no more mountains along the river; but on the eastern

side goes a high chain of mountains to the north-east, whose sides are

covered with woods, up to one half of their height. The summits however

are quite barren; for I suppose that nothing would grow there, on

account of the great degree of heat [65], dryness, and the violence of

the wind, to which that part is exposed. The eastern side of the river

is much more cultivated than the western, where we seldom saw a house,

the land being covered with woods, though it is in general very level.

About fifty-six English miles from New York the country is not very

high; yet it is every where covered with woods, except some new farms

which were scattered here and there. The high mountains which we left

in the afternoon, now appeared above the woods and the country. These

mountains, which were called the Highlands, did not project more North

than the other, in the place where we anchored. Their sides (not those

towards the river) were seldom perpendicular, but sloping, so that one

could climb up to the top, though not without difficulty.

On several high grounds near the river, the people burnt lime. The

master of the yacht told me, that they break a fine blueish grey

limestone in the high grounds, along both sides of the river, for the

space of some English miles, and burn lime of it. But at some miles

distance there is no more limestone, and they find also none on the

banks till they come to Albany.

We passed by a little neck of land, which projected on the western side

in the river, and was called Dance. The name of this place is said to

derive its origin from a festival which the Dutch celebrated here in

former times, and at which they danced and diverted themselves; but

once there came a number of Indians, who killed them all.

We cast anchor late at night, because the wind ceased and the tide was

ebbing. The depth of the river is twelve fathoms here.

The fire-flies passed the river in numbers, at night, and sometimes

settled upon the rigging.

June the 12th. This morning we proceeded with the tide, but against the

wind. The river was here a musket-shot broad. The country in general is

low on both sides, consisting of low rocks, and stony fields, which are

however covered with woods. It is so rocky, stony, and poor, that

nobody can settle in it, or inhabit it, there being no spot of ground

fit for a corn-field. The country continued to have the same appearance

for the space of some miles, and we never perceived one settlement. At

eleven o’clock this morning we came to a little island, which lies in

the middle of the river, and is said to be half-way between New York

and Albany. The shores are still low, stony, and rocky, as before. But

at a greater distance we saw high mountains, covered with woods,

chiefly on the western shore, raising their tops above the rest of the

country; and still further off, the Blue Mountains rose up above them.

Towards noon it was quite calm, and we went on very slow. Here, the

land is well cultivated, especially on the eastern shore, and full of

great corn-fields; yet the soil seemed sandy. Several villages lay on

the eastern side, and one of them, called Strasburg, was inhabited by a

number of Germans. To the West we saw several cultivated places. The

Blue Mountains are very plainly to be seen here. They appear through

the clouds, and tower above all other mountains. The river is full an

English mile broad opposite Strasburg.

They make use of a yellow Agaricus, or mushroom, which grows on

maple-trees, for tinder; that which is found on the red-flowering maple

(Acer rubrum) is reckoned the best, and next in goodness is that of the

Sugar-maple (Acer saccarinum), which is sometimes reckoned as good as

the former.

Rhinbeck is a place at some distance from Strasburg, further off from

the river. It is inhabited by many Germans, who have a church there.

Their clergyman at present was the Rev. Mr. Hartwig, who knew some

Swedish, having been at Gothenburg for some time. This little town is

not visible from the river-side.

At two in the afternoon it began again to blow from the south, which

enabled us to proceed. The country on the eastern side is high, and

consists of a well cultivated soil. We had fine corn-fields, pretty

farms, and good orchards, in view. The western shore is likewise

somewhat high, but still covered with woods, and we now and then,

though seldom, saw one or two little settlements. The river is above an

English mile broad in most places, and comes in a strait line from the

North, so that we could not sometimes follow it with our eye.

June the 13th. The wind favoured our voyage during the whole night, so

that I had no opportunity of observing the nature of the country. This

morning at five o’clock we were but nine English miles from Albany. The

country on both sides the river is low, and covered with woods,

excepting a few little scattered settlements. Under the higher shores

of the river are wet meadows, covered with sword-grass (Carex), and

they formed several little islands. We saw no mountains; and hastened

towards Albany. The land on both sides of the river is chiefly low, and

more carefully cultivated as we came nearer to Albany.

As to the houses, which we saw, some were of wood, others of stone. The

river is seldom above a musket-shot broad, and in several parts of it

are sands, which require great experience for governing the yachts. At

eight o’clock in the morning we arrived at Albany.