In following this winding, hilly road for four or five miles, I think I
counted at least a dozen new kinds of wild flowers, not timid, retiring
little plants like ours, but bold flowers of rich colors, covering the
ground in abundance. One very common flower resembles our cardinal
flower, though not of so deep a color, another is very like rocket or
phlox, but smaller and of various colors, white, blue and purple.
Beautiful white lupines I find too, violets white and purple. The vines
and parasites are magnificent. I followed on this road till I came to
the prairie which skirts the river, and this, of all the beauties of
this region, is the most peculiar and wonderful. Imagine a vast and
gently-swelling pasture of the brightest green grass, stretching away
from you on every side, behind, toward these hills I have described, in
all other directions, to a belt of tall trees, all growing up with noble
proportions, from the generous soil. It is an unimagined picture of
abundance and peace. Somewhere about, you are sure to see a huge herd,
of cattle, often white, and generally brightly marked, grazing. All
looks like the work of man's hand, but you see no vestige of man, save
perhaps an almost imperceptible hut on the edge of the prairie. Reaching
the river, I ferried myself across, and then crossed over to take the
Jacksonville railroad, but, finding there was no train, passed the night
at a farm house. And here may find its place this converse between the
solitary old man and the young traveller.
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