Viewing The Land Here, We Found An Extraordinary Rich, Black Mould,
And Some Of A Copper-Colour, Both Sorts Very Good; The Land In Some Places
Is Much Burthen'd With Iron, Stone, Here Being Great Store Of It,
Seemingly Very Good:
The eviling Springs, which are many in these Parts,
issuing out of the Rocks, which Water we drank of,
It colouring
the Excrements of Travellers (by its chalybid Quality) as black as a Coal.
When we were all asleep, in the Beginning of the Night,
we were awaken'd with the dismall'st and most hideous Noise
that ever pierc'd my Ears: This sudden Surprizal incapacitated us of guessing
what this threatning Noise might proceed from; but our Indian Pilot
(who knew these Parts very well) acquainted us, that it was customary
to hear such Musick along that Swamp-side, there being
endless Numbers of Panthers, Tygers, Wolves, and other Beasts of Prey,
which take this Swamp for their Abode in the Day, coming in whole Droves
to hunt the Deer in the Night, making this frightful Ditty 'till Day appears,
then all is still as in other Places.
{Monday.}
The next Day it prov'd a small drisly Rain, which is rare,
there happening not the tenth Part of Foggy-falling Weather
towards these Mountains, as visits those Parts. Near the Sea-board,
the Indian kill'd 15 Turkeys this Day; there coming out of the Swamp,
(about Sun-rising) Flocks of these Fowl, containing several hundreds
in a Gang, who feed upon the Acrons, it being most Oak that grow
in these Woods. There are but very few Pines in those Quarters.
Early the next Morning, we set forward for the Congeree-Indians,
parting with that delicious Prospect. By the Way, our Guide kill'd
more Turkeys, and two Polcats, which he eat, esteeming them before
fat Turkeys. Some of the Turkeys which we eat, whilst we stay'd there,
I believe, weigh'd no less than 40 Pounds.
The Land we pass'd over this Day, was most of it good, and the worst passable.
At Night we kill'd a Possum, being cloy'd with Turkeys, made a Dish of that,
which tasted much between young Pork and Veal; their Fat being as white
as any I ever saw.
Our Indian having this Day kill'd good Store of Provision with his Gun,
he always shot with a single Ball, missing but two Shoots in above forty;
they being curious Artists in managing a Gun, to make it carry either Ball,
or Shot, true. When they have bought a Piece, and find it to shoot
any Ways crooked, they take the Barrel out of the Stock, cutting a Notch
in a Tree, wherein they set it streight, sometimes shooting away
above 100 Loads of Ammunition, before they bring the Gun to shoot
according to their Mind. We took up our Quarters by a Fish-pond-side;
the Pits in the Woods that stand full of Water, naturally breed Fish in them,
in great Quantities. We cook'd our Supper, but having neither Bread, or Salt,
our fat Turkeys began to be loathsome to us, altho' we were never wanting
of a good Appetite, yet a Continuance of one Diet, made us weary.
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