But there were nine feet of water in the great ditch; and that
was enough for Porter, who pressed boldly on.

The country into which the combined military and naval expedition was
advancing was in truth the granary of Vicksburg. On all other sides of
the beleaguered city, the Federal lines were drawn so closely that the
wagons laden with farm produce could not hope to pass. But here, back
of the city, and far from the camps of Grant's legions, the work of
raising produce for the gallant people of Vicksburg was prosecuted
with the most untiring vigor. The sight, then, of the advancing
gunboats aroused the greatest consternation. From the deck of his
vessel Porter could see the people striving to save their property
from the advancing enemy. Great droves of cattle were being driven
away far into the interior; negroes were skurrying in all directions,
driving poultry and pigs to the safe concealment of the forest; wagons
groaning under the weight of farm and garden produce could be seen
disappearing in the distance. What the inhabitants could not save they
destroyed, in order that it might not profit the invaders. A short
distance from the mouth of the bayou "were six thousand bales of
cotton piled up on opposite sides of the stream, ready to be taken
aboard a steamer when the war should end. As the gunboats advanced
slowly, making little headway against the two-knot current of the
bayou, Porter saw two men, carrying lighted pine-knots, dash up to the
cotton, and begin to set it afire. The admiral looked on in disgust.
"'What fools these mortals be!'" said he to an officer standing at his
side; "but I suppose those men have a right to burn their own cotton,
especially as we have no way of preventing them."

"I can send a howitzer shell at them, sir," said the officer, "and
drive them away."

But to this Porter demurred, saying that he had no desire to kill the
men, and that they might do as they liked with their own. Accordingly
the officers quietly watched the vandals, until, after twenty minutes'
work, the cotton was blazing, and a dense mass of smoke cut off all
vision ahead, and rose high in the air. Then Porter began to suspect
that he had made a mistake. The difficulties of navigation in the
bayou were great enough, without having smoke and fire added to them.
Yet to wait for the cotton to burn up might cause a serious delay. On
the high bank of the bayou stood a negro begging the sailors to take
him aboard.

"H