Mr. C. B. Simmons, agent for a large plantation of 3,000 acres, drove me out to see the conditions on his place, which are typical of those on other places owned by non-residents. Mr. Simmons estimated that the damage done to the crops would be about $12,000. There are 40 tenants on the place, six of whom are white families. The crops are in many cases practically a total loss; the whole year’s work has been swept away. The only thing that will be realized will be a hay crop, which, under favorable conditions, may be harvested before frost. Some of the men had tried to get work in the phosphate mills near by, but without success. The entire body of tenants gathered together by appointment to meet Mr. Simmons, and each in turn gave detailed account of the loss he had sustained. Mr. Simmons said that the most direct and practical way to help these people would be to provide them with seed-oats, which could be planted in October, and would yield a crop early next June. About 700 bushels would be needed for the 40 tenants on the place. On Wednesday morning, September 9th, I went to Lykesland by train, a distance of about nine miles from Columbia. Here I was met by Mr. William Lykes, who drove me out to see the conditions in a little colony of negro swamp farmers. There was not much room for possible exaggeration in the stories we heard here; the white line of mud in the branches of the trees, often 12 or 15 feet from the ground, indicated the height of the flood. Fallen chimneys and wrecked buildings showed the violence of the current. The cotton was ruined, fit only to be plowed under to fertilize next year’s crop. The corn was rotting on its stalks. The poor little, unpainted, windowless frame houses were unspeakably desolate; the walls marked to the very eaves with white mud left by the receding waters, and everything within the homes—bedding, clothes, furniture—wrecked and ruined, and saturated with mud. Nearly all the live stock had perished. They showed us the stockade on a small knoll, a little higher than the surrounding country, into which they had driven all their animals. Here they had managed to save most of their mules, but even at this elevation nearly all the cattle had been drowned. The largest land-holder in the colony, a very intelligent negro, with a reputation for honesty and industry, had lost 16 acres of corn and 16 of cotton, 6 head of cattle and 10 hogs. A week before, when Mr. Lykes first visited the colony after the flood, he found the people literally starving. At one house the hungry children were trying to eat the rotten corn. He at once secured $50.00, through Captain Gonzales, from the South Carolina branch of the Red Cross, with which he purchased provisions and supplies to meet the immediate need.