my future efforts at colonisation--my depot and port
entry. I should have inquired had I found any one to inquire _from_;
but, for ten miles along the road, I encountered not a human creature.
Then only a "darkey" with an ox-cart loaded with wood; but, despairing
of information from such a source, I declined detaining him. The only
intelligence I was able to draw from the negro was that; "da `city' o'
Swampville, massr, he lay 'bout ten mile furrer down da crik." The "ten
mile down da crik" proved to be long ones; but throughout the whole
distance I saw not a creature, until I had arrived within a mile or so
of the "settlement!"

I had been already apprised that Swampville was a new place. Its fame
had not yet reached the eastern world; and even in Nashville was it
unknown, except, perhaps, to the Land-Office. It was only after
entering the Reserve, that I became fully assured of its existence; and
there it was known as a "settlement" rather than a "city." For all
that, Swampville proved to be not so contemptible a place; and the
reason I had encountered so little traffic, while approaching it, was
that I had been coming in the _wrong direction_--in other words, I had
approached it _from behind_.

Swampville was in reality a _riverine_ town. To it the east was a
_back_ country; and its front face was to the west. In that direction
lay its world, and the ways that opened to it. Log-shanties began to
line the road--standing thicker as I advanced; while at intervals,
appeared a "frame-house" of more pretentious architecture. In front of
one of these--the largest of the collection--there stood a tall post; or
rather a tree with its top cut off, and divested of its lower branches.
On the head of this was a "martin-box"; and underneath the dwelling of
the birds, a broad framed board, on which was legible the word "Hotel."
A portrait of Jackson, done in "continental uniform," embellished the
face of the board. The sign seemed little appropriate: for in the harsh
features of "Old Hickory" there was but slight promise of hospitality.
It was no use going farther. The "Jackson Hotel" was evidently the
"head inn" of the place; and without pause or parley, I dismounted at
its door.

I was too well used to western habits to wait either for welcome or
assistance--too careful of my Arab to trust him to hands unskilled--and
I did the unsaddling for myself. A half-naked negro gave me some slight
help in the "grooming" pr