{131} _February 7._ To-day I left Cincinnati, on my way for Jeffersonville, at the falls of the Ohio. The boat in which I proceeded is a flat ark, loaded with flour and pork, for New Orleans. There are five such boats in company, all belonging to the same owner, who accompanies them. The wind has been south-westerly, and the thermometer, exposed to the sunshine, (which is but dim) stood at 60°. The warm weather, of late, has been uniformly attended by wind blowing up the river, importing, as it were, the air of a more southern latitude. The flower buds of the water-maple, the elm, and the leaves of the weeping willow, are burst out, and the grass has become green. Dr. Drake, the describer of this western country, has stated the usual time of the flowering of the water-maple at a month later. It is to be feared that this early vegetation will be checked by subsequent frosts. Fruit trees, in that event, may be rendered unproductive for the ensuing season. We put ashore, at night, twenty-three miles from Cincinnati. Gusts of wind, and a dark, clouded atmosphere, dissuaded us against sailing during the night. Much rain and loud thunder ensued. _8._ The boatmen are not obliged to row in the present moderately high stage of the water. It is sufficient to make a few pulls occasionally to keep off the shore. Two boats are tied alongside of each other, and put about with the broadside to the stream. They float at the rate of nearly four miles per hour. _9._ Last night at dusk, we passed the Swiss settlement Vevay, which lies on the Indiana side of the river.[78] These people are said to be industrious cultivators of the ground. Wine is their staple {132} product. It is procured from a round black grape, nearly the size of a musket ball. The liquor is often of an acid taste, and apt to undergo the acetous fermentation in keeping. We continued our course all night. The owner and I slept in the boat by a fire, where we had scarcely room enough to stretch ourselves. In all other respects this is a pleasant way of travelling. The river, in most parts which we have lately seen, appears to be from five hundred to six hundred yards broad, environed with rich bottoms, and beyond these high limestone ridges. From the tops of these to the water’s edge, the surface is covered with stupendous woods, with cleared farms at intervals. A few of the houses seem to be externally neat, but the majority of them are log cabins. The north side of the river is more thickly settled than the south side, where a negro population is to be seen along the banks. In the afternoon we heard a remarkable sound issuing from a swamp near the river. I was told that it was the croaking of frogs. There must have been myriads of them in the place, as the noise was incessant, like that of wind amongst trees, or the fall of water over a distant cascade.