conversation upon southern and northern generalities - a plain backwoods family, out of sight in knobby timbered hillocks. 24th. Spent this day with Mr. Prather sailing on the Chattahoochee, gathering grapes that had dropped from overhanging vines from eddies for wine. “Now look out for snakes,” he said. 25th. Set out for Savannah. Got lost in the vine-fenced hills and hollows of the river bottom. Could not find the ford. Determined to push on southward regardless of roads and fords. After repeated failures succeeded in finding a portion of the river-bank through whose vine tangles I could force my way to the water, and began to ford careless of wetting, knowing that I would soon dry in the hot sun, but found great difficulty in resisting and rapid current, bracing myself with a stout stick. Was at length carried away near the middle of the stream, but luckily caught hold of a rock and after a rest swam and waded shore and dragged myself up to the steep bank by the overhanging vines and spread out myself, my paper money, and plants to dry. Debated with myself whether to proceed [Drawing - “Fording Chattahoochee.”] May the muscadine grapevine always have a cool stream bank to hang over
Original journal dimensions: 10 x 16.5 cm.
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John Muir, journals, drawings, writings, travel, journaling, naturalist