ancient tribe of Indians, when first visited by the Americans, had among them a tradition of the flood altogether remarkable, and as worthy of being preserved as any of the traditions on that subject, that have been found amongst the East Indian Brahmins, or the inhabitants of Peru, in the southern part of our own continent.

Thomas Jefferson, while president of the United States, about the year 1805, communicated to congress the following report of certain American officers, who had explored the Red River country:

It is

"About forty miles above the mouth of Little River, which empties into Red River two hundred and seventyseven miles above its mouth, there is a large prairie, forty miles long. Near the middle of the prairie there is a lake, of about five miles in circumference. of an oval form, and neither tree nor shrub near it ; nor is there any stream of water running either into it or out of it. This lake is very deep, and the water so perfectly limpid, that a fish may be seen at the depth of fifteen feet from the surface. By the side of this lake, the Caddo, or Caddoque, tribe of Indians. have lived from time immemorial. About one mile from the lake is a hill, on which, they say, the Great Spirit placed one Caddo family, who were saved when, by a general deluge, all the world were drowned; and from that one family, they declare, all the Indians have originated. To this little natural eminence, all the Indian tribes, for a great distance, as well as the Caddoques, pay a devout and sacred homage."

The report of this exploring party further goes on to say, that "the whole number of what they call warriors of the ancient Caddo nation, is now (that is,

in 1805) reduced to one hundred, who are looked upon somewhat like the knights of Malta, or some distinguished military order. They are brave, despise danger and death, and boast that they have never shed white man's blood."

20

THE RED RIVER BUZZARD.

WHEN the time drew nigh that I had set for leaving the Red River country, I announced to the people of Shreveport and the neighborhood, that if they would collect their children at the court-house, I would attempt to preach a sermon particularly adapted to them. The people were pleased with the proposition; and on the last day of my stay among them, a beautiful company of children were brought together, and I gave them the best instruction I could for the life that now is, and also for that which is to come. I then bade adieu to many highly-valued friends, and started down the river. Our progress was slow; for the boat was taking in cotton,- forty bales at one plantation, sixty at another, and thus we were some two or three days moving slowly towards New Orleans. Many of the passengers were from the region where I had been laboring, and with some of them I had formed a pleasant acquaintance. At their request, I had preached a few sermons in the cabin of the steamboat as we journeyed. When we had made considerable progress down the river, a great, brawny, broad-shouldered, sixfeet-two or three inches high backwoodsman appeared among the passengers. I was not aware at what point He looked as if he might

he had come on board. have been brought up in the neighborhood of iron

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works. The lineaments of a strong mind were distinctly marked in his visage, and his whole bearing was that of a shrewd, forward, self-confident man. is extremely rare, in the western country, that you find a man who designedly treats a minister of the gospel with disrespect. I have travelled long, and travelled far, yet have scarcely failed, in twenty years, when on a journey, to receive courtesy and gentlemanly treatment in every company, and from every individual with whom I had any particular intercourse. But here was a notable exception. The rough, stout man, above mentioned, had found out that I was a minister of the gospel; in fact, I had preached once, perhaps oftener, on the boat after he had come on board. He now concluded he would show his smartness, by holding up to reproach and ridicule religion and religious men. From his manner, I had little doubt that he had often before attempted the same thing, and, perhaps, with a considerable degree of success and imaginary triumph.

He now, with an air of great complacency and selfimportance, commenced telling a story of a certain minister of his acquaintance. It was an awful story; and he told it remarkably well. He had, in fact, a quantity of that ready, rough wit, which enabled him to set the laughable points of a ludicrous story in a very clear and strong light. When he was through his statement, the company looked somewhat blank. Most of them felt that there was a high degree of impropriety in his telling such a story before the minister who had preached to them only a few hours before; otherwise they might have been prompted to a hearty laugh. As it was, however, some of them twisted their mouths a little, and all remained silent.

But the fellow who had told the tale was no way abashed at its cold reception. Determined to have some amusement, he turned round to me, and, in a manner most impertinent and haughty, said, "Well, sir, what do you think of that?" I replied with much indifference, "I am a stranger in the country, and not acquainted with the circumstances." I should have taken particular notice of neither him nor his story, had he told it and just let it pass. and just let it pass. But the fellow appeared by no means satisfied, and, after a momentary pause, he set in and told, either of the same preacher or some other, a second story, which was rather an improvement on the first. A genuine story it was, and astonishingly well told; for in this department he possessed a talent equalled by few. He now turned to me a second time, and said, "Well, sir, what do you think of that?" Again I replied, "I am a stranger in the country, and not acquainted with the circumstances." By this time, it was perfectly plain to me and to the other passengers, that he was disposed to show his smartness at my expense. So I resolved to "give him rope;" and, perhaps, by the time he had run his full career, he might find that he had "waked up the wrong passenger."

He now told a third story, rising still in interest, like the steps in a flight of stairs. The story was certainly an original one, and the style in which it was told "hard to beat." There was a young Texas officer in the company. He was a native of Kentucky, had been brought up in the neighborhood of Mount Stirling, educated at the military institution at West Point, and had now been a number of years in Texas, during her revolution. This young officer now became