The "Oakley" house, which by a strange turn of fortune's wheel thus became the naturalist's home in the summer of 1821, has changed but little since that time, but the century that has nearly sped its course has added strength and beauty to the moss-hung oaks which now encompass it and temper the heat of the southern sun in the double-decked galleries which adorn its whole front. Built of the enduring cypress, as my correspondent remarks, the house stands as firm and sound as the gaunt but living sentinels of that order which tower from the brake not far away. Audubon spent nearly five months at the Pirrie estate. He worked with great ardor at his _Ornithology_ and produced the originals of many of his plates that were afterwards published, while his assistant, Joseph Mason, who had followed him from Cincinnati, labored with equal diligence at the plants that were chosen as a setting for the birds.[286] An early drawing of the Chuck Will's Widow is dated "Red River, June, 1821," and it is probable that he followed this stream into Arkansas, for on leaving Cincinnati in the autumn of the previous year, he had planned to enter that State, and later references in his journals clearly imply that this object was attained. Another favorite hunting ground was Thompson's Creek, and he often recalled its heated banks, where, on a Fourth of July, he once satisfied his hunger by "swallowing the roasted eggs of a large soft shelled turtle." On August 11, 1821, while Audubon was living at "Oakley," he made this entry in his journal: Watched all night by the dead body of a friend of Mrs. P——; he was not known to me, and he had literally drunk himself to an everlasting sleep. Peace to his soul! I made a good sketch of his head, as a present for his poor wife. On such occasions time flies very slow indeed, so much so that it looked as if it stood still, like the hawk that poises over its prey. In the same journal also, for August 25, occurs a record which throws light on one of Audubon's most discussed and questionable pictures, that of the mocking-birds defending their jessamine-embowered nest from the sinister designs of a rattlesnake;[287] little did he think at the time how much discord this venomous reptile, when coiled in the branches of a tree, could later breed.[288] The entry was: Finished drawing a very fine specimen of a rattlesnake, which measured five feet and seven inches, weighed six and a quarter pounds, and had ten rattles. Anxious to give it a position most interesting to a naturalist, I put it in that which the reptile commonly takes when on the point of striking madly with its fangs. I had examined many before, and especially the position of the fangs along the superior jaw-bones, but had never seen one showing the whole [of the fangs] exposed at the same time.