the mind of any future traveller I know not; in my own, they sprang up instinctively.

The origin of the peculiar appearance of these grounds is probably this. The Indians annually, and sometimes oftener, burned such parts of the North-American forests as they found sufficiently dry. In every such case the fuel consists chiefly of the fallen leaves, which are rarely dry enough for an extensive combustion, except on uplands; and on these only when covered with a dry soil. Of this nature were always the oak and yellow-pine grounds; which were therefore usually subjected to an annual conflagration. The beech and maple grounds were commonly too wet to be burned. Hence on these grounds the vegetable mould is from six inches to a foot in depth; having been rarely or never consumed by fire; while on the oak and pine grounds it often does not exceed an inch. That this is the effect of fire only, and not of any diversity in the nature of the trees, is evident from the fact, that in moist soils, where the fire cannot penetrate, the mould is as deep on the oak as on the maple grounds. This mould is combustible, and by an intense fire is wholly consumed.

The object of these conflagrations was to produce fresh and sweet pasture, for the purpose of alluring the deer to the spots on which they had been kindled. Immediately after the fires a species of grass springs up, sometimes called fire grass, because it usually succeeds a conflagration. Whether it is a peculiar species of grass, I am unable to say; not having seen it since the days of childhood. Either from its nature, or from the efficacy of the fire, it is remarkably sweet, and eagerly sought by deer. All the underwood is at the same time consumed, so that these animals are easily discovered at considerable distances; a thing impracticable where the forests have not been burned. You will remember, that to supply himself with timber for a weekwam, and with wood for fuel, was the only use, which an Indian could make of a forest; and that the earth furnished him with nothing but a place for his residence, his garden, and his game. While, therefore, he destroyed both the forest and the soil, he converted them to the most profitable uses for himself.

When these grounds had been often burned, they were of

course covered with grass. The seeds and nuts, whence future trees would have germinated, were extensively destroyed by successive fires. Few trees, therefore, could spring for want of seeds, and fewer still because the surface was covered with grass; for wherever that vegetable has gained possession of the soil forest trees will never spring. The small number scattered over these plains grew on spots, which were less ravaged by the fire because they were moist, or because they were less covered with leaves.

Thus, in time, these plains were disforested to the degree in which we now see them, and were gradually converted into pasture grounds. It ought to be observed, that they were in all probability burnt over for ages after they were disforested; I presume down to a very late period. In a dry season of autumn the grass would furnish ample fuel for this purpose.

That this is the true cause of the singular appearance of these plains can scarcely be doubted, when the following facts are compared.

That the Indians customarily burned, every year, such parts of the forests as were sufficiently dry to admit of conflagration. That these were the only grounds, which, except in rare. cases, could be successfully burned.

That, wherever they have been for a considerable length of time free from fires, the young trees are now springing up in great numbers, and will soon change these open grounds into forests, if left to the course of nature. Such, particularly, is the fact on the first of these plains, near the Genesee river; and still more strikingly in Bloomfield and Charleston, where the fires have been longer intermitted.

That in various places the marks of the fire are now visible on the trunks of the remaining trees, particularly near the ground. These marks I suppose to have been impressed at a comparatively late period, and by fires kindled in the grass.

That on the borders of these very plains, trees, of exactly the same species, are now growing in great numbers, and in the usual regular succession, of all ages and sizes, within the nearest neighbourhood of those on the plains; and that this diversity, perfectly explicable on this supposition, is inexplicable on any other.

That there can be no account given, why the vegetable

mould should be so thinly spread over these plains, except that it has been continually consumed by fire; since it exists in the usual quantity in the forests, composed of the same trees, on moister ground, bordering these plains on every side.

And, that all the phenomena are, if I mistake not, explained by the cause alleged.

Should it be asked, why there are no such grounds in NewEngland, in which country also Indians lived and hunted; I

answer,

1st, The New-England oak and yellow pine forests have not been subjected to fire for many years.

2dly, No accounts of their ancient appearance have come down to us.

Sdly, The whole of southern New-England, except the mountains and swamps, was almost wholly covered with oak and pine forests. All, therefore, being capable of an annual and easy conflagration, there was no inducement to burn any single part frequently. Yet, beside the well-known fact, that the Indians kindled the forests yearly for the above-named purpose, there are now remaining many proofs of such fires.

4thly, That within my own remembrance there were, in the township of Northampton, spots desolated in a similar manner. These, although laid waste in an inferior degree, were yet so far destroyed as to be left in a great measure naked. Now they are completely covered with a thick forest. I suppose these grounds, however, to have been frequently burnt by the English inhabitants, who foolishly followed this Indian custom, in order to provide feed for their cattle in the spring.

These plains have, until very lately, been considered as of little value, when compared with the maple and beech land; which here is called, by way of distinction from them, timbered land. From numerous experiments made on them within a short time it appears, however, that the wheat sown on them not only grows luxuriantly, and yields a rich crop, but is heavier by several pounds in the bushel than that which grows on the maple lands. It is also whiter and better, and commands therefore a higher price. It is hardly necessary to observe, that these facts have rapidly raised the plains in the public estimation.

On the third plain we found a singular mass of limestone gravel, consisting of pebbles, about the size of a nutmeg, and nearly the same shape. They were apparently formed of a partial dissolution of white lime rock, and were very nearly of one size. The mass extended over a considerable distance on the surface.

The second, third, and fourth of these plains lie between Dunham's, twenty-nine miles, and Van De Vender's, fortyseven miles, from the Genesee river. In this extent there is but one house, which is within one mile of Van De Vender's. Seventeen miles in this part of our journey, therefore, were destitute of a human habitation. There is, however, an Indian settlement, called the Tonnewanta village, lying three or four miles north of the road, on the creek of the same name. To this village benighted travellers not unfrequently betake themselves, and find hospitable entertainment.

We arrived at Van De Vender's, a log house, about sunset; but were unable to procure entertainment, the house having been pre-occupied. After having travelled eight miles, four of them in a heavy rain, we gladly alighted about nine o'clock, and placed ourselves at Munger's, a log-house, at a little distance from the road. Scarcely were we seated when we found ourselves in a state of very serious embarrassment. The house contained neither flour nor bread. We had rode thirty-seven miles, and were not in very good humour to go to bed supperless. Nor were we willing to begin our journey the following day without a breakfast. In this quandary a good-natured waggoner, who was removing his family into Upper Canada, and carried his provisions along with him, kindly relieved our distress by offering to furnish the innkeeper with the necessary quantity of flour. With this supply our good landlady very expeditiously placed before us a cup of hyson tea, with loaf sugar, cream, and excellent hot biscuit and butter. This supper, though found everywhere in decent inns and older settlements, was here unexpected and very highly relished. The house was not more than half built. The region in which it stood was almost uninhabited, and we were wet and weary. It rained all night, and a part of our company were occasionally sprinkled. However, we slept soundly, and in the morning refreshed ourselves with an excellent breakfast.

We were detained till late the next morning by the rain. At length, perceiving it to slacken, we began our journey to Buffaloe Creek, and arrived about two o'clock; fourteen or fifteen miles. We were twice stopped by the rain, and were fatigued by crossing a deep maple swamp, three miles in breadth, a fac-simile of that in the neighbourhood of Bemis'.

The county of Genesee comprises the whole western end of the state of New-York. It is bounded on the north by Lake Ontario, on the south by Pennsylvania, on the east by the counties of Steuben and Ontario, and on the west by the river Niagara, Lake Erie, and a line drawn from that lake (limiting, eastward, a small tract, purchased of congress by the state of Pennsylvania) until it intersects its north line. The greatest length of this county from north to south is ninety-two miles. On the south line it measures ninety-six miles. From Lake Erie to the county of Ontario, in a direct line, the distance is fifty-eight miles. This tract is commonly said to contain upwards of four millions of acres, being more than are included in the state of Connecticut. Its surface in the northern parts is remarkably level; not a single hill, of any importance, being found on the great road from Genesee river to Buffaloe Creek; unless the descent and ascent to and from the swamps and mill-streams should be called hills. Here, however, we only fall below the common level, and rise to it again. Nor is there, so far as I have been informed, any considerable hill between the road and Lake Ontario, if we except the brow of the lime-stone stratum, which, it is said, crosses the whole breadth of this tract, entering the county of Ontario on the east, and Upper Canada on the west.

The southern parts of this tract, including perhaps one-third, and possibly two-fifths, of the whole, are said to be hilly, and even mountainous. From the number of considerable streams, rising in this region, and forming a part of the head-waters of the Alleghany and Genesee rivers, the account appears to be true.

This county, throughout the northern half, is scantily furnished with springs and streams. All these, of any size, except Allen's creek, a branch of the Genesee, and two or three smaller ones, which empty their waters into Lake Ontario, have been already mentioned in the course of these Letters.