Outing . cal lore. I didnt knowa sea cow from a barred Holstein, a tarpon from a tarpaulin, a degree of longi-tude from a third mates license. But enough of this. Five days latertwo bald-headed men, wearing eyeglassesand crinkly new khaki suits, paddledaway from a wharf in Harveys Canalacross from upper New Orleans. Wedidnt know where we were going. Onlythere was a brilliant March sun, andthe world was as clean as a porcelainbathtub. And down that canal lay amystic vista of green, sweet-smelling jungle. Someoneon the levee said that waywe would get to the ! said Hen. Nowfor the Spanis
Outing . cal lore. I didnt knowa sea cow from a barred Holstein, a tarpon from a tarpaulin, a degree of longi-tude from a third mates license. But enough of this. Five days latertwo bald-headed men, wearing eyeglassesand crinkly new khaki suits, paddledaway from a wharf in Harveys Canalacross from upper New Orleans. Wedidnt know where we were going. Onlythere was a brilliant March sun, andthe world was as clean as a porcelainbathtub. And down that canal lay amystic vista of green, sweet-smelling jungle. Someoneon the levee said that waywe would get to the ! said Hen. Nowfor the Spanish Main! I hate to say that wewere not in that brand newsea-going canoe we had or-dered. We were in a leakyjohnboat borrowed from alean, lone fisherman. Nowthe johnboat is a peculiarinstitution. It consists ofthree cypress boards form-ing the sides and bottomand with the ends nailedup. They build them bythe mile in Barataria andsaw off as much as youwant. We had not hearda word from our sea-canoe. FROM A. A LIVE OAK ON BAYOU BARATARIA The Cajun fishermen along that canalhad never seen or heard of a canvas havent yet. Ours—well, that isanother story. Six miles down Harveys Canal, thescant levee along the banks gave way tothe sunken shores of Bayou moss-hung cypress was brilliantwith dew and the latanier palms rustledbeneath. Hen was sniffing the boy, this will rejuvenate you!Were off! Hi, for the Main! Thecut of rude winds, the sting of salt sprayslapping us as it did Magellan, Bal-boa, Drake, and Jean La Fitte. Giveme the slant of the rain, the good, roughearth, and a bed under the stars! Very good for a cynic. Only he for-got to mention that the good earth here-abouts was fine, soggy, bottomless ooze;2nd that a bed under the stars would beattended by all the mosquitoes, the thun-dering, big, deep-sea-going mosquitoes ofBarataria, that would as soon bite aseeker after youth as they would a pi-rate. That night I counted six mosqui-toes on a secti
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
