and my Cincinnati home. The good Jothun, Mr. S., presented me with a collection of shells from the Ohio river, some of which are extremely beautiful.
It was a lovely sunny day, that on which I commenced my journey, and Cincinnati, its vine-covered hills, its lovely villas, and the river Ohio were brilliant in the sunshine. There was a sunny warmth in my soul likewise, and the proofs of kindness which I received from many friends in the city during the last few days, were to me like the soft summer wind; but I was very weary after a violent headache, and the excitement of departure. I longed for rest and silence.
The giant steamer, Belle Key, moved slowly along, thundering down the clear blue river, the lofty shores of which, with their ever-changing scenes glided past, cheerful and lovely. The river became broader, the hills sank lower, the villas disappeared, farm-houses and log-houses recurred at more and more distant intervals, the banks became more wooded and desolate. We approached the Mississippi.
What is going on? Why do the people rush out from the fields? A chase upon the water?
A stag with branching antlers swims across the river from the Kentucky to the Ohio shore. He is not far from the free shore. But two boats are after him from the slave shore. His proud antlers raise themselves high above the water. He swims rapidly; perhaps he may save himself! He is just at the shore. Ah! and now a boat puts out from the free shore towards him. Woe betide the poor fugitive! He turns round. The two boats from Kentucky meet him. Now he is surrounded. I see the oars lifted from all the three boats to give him his death-blow. That beautiful head is still seen above the water. Now fall the oars!—I turn away my eyes. The steamer rounds a point. We have lost sight of the wild chase. The defenceless fugitive is in the power of his pursuers.
