at night threw up rockets as signals, but always without result. The whole country seemed deserted; the riparians, at all events, had fled en masse.
At last, on the evening of the 11th, we found ourselves nearing the City of New Orleans, where I hoped to find some vessel or vessels that would take us away from this monster-haunted continent. At the urgent entreaty of my daughter Aurelia, who complained that the children were suffering from the heat and confinement of the steamboat, I anchored the vessels, and allowed her, with a number of her small charges, to go on shore, that they might run about and take the exercise they so much needed. The delight of the little troop was extreme. As they landed from the boats and felt their feet press their mother earth once more the shouts, laughter, and cheering did our hearts good to listen to. Two hours they were to have, and no more, and the boats' crews were ordered to lie alongside to take them on board at the expiration of that time.
The two hours had not elapsed when it became clear to us from the confused sounds on shore that something unexpected had occurred. We were anchored
