The bayou turned from it at last, from our beautiful lily world aboutwhich our pleasant thoughts had ceased to flow even in bad poetry.

0ur voyage was for information, which might be obtained at a certainhabitation; if not there, at a second one, or surely at a third andmost distant settlement.

The bayou narrowed into a canal, then widened into a bayou again, andthe low, level swamp and prairie advanced into woodland and forest.0ak-trees began, our beautiful oak-trees! Great branches bent downalmost to the water,--quite even with high water,--coveblack withforests of oak, parasites, lichens, and with vines that swept ourheads as we passed under them, drooping now and then to trail in thewater, a plaything for the fishes, and a landing-place for amphibiousinsects. The sun speckled the water with its flickering patterns,showering us with light and heat. We sometimes have no spring suns; our sun,even in December, is a summer one.