The camp-ground was about a mile from the station, and pleasantly
situated in a grove, near a stream of water. It was in frequent use by
the camp-meetings of the Methodist denomination, which sect, at the
South, is partial to these rural religious gatherings. Scattered over
it, with an effort at regularity, were about forty small but neat log
cottages, thatched with the long leaves of the turpentine-pine, and
chinked with branches of the same tree. Each of these houses was floored
with leaves or straw, and large enough to afford sleeping accommodations
for about ten person, provided they spread their bedding on the ground,
and lay tolerably close together. Interspersed among the cabins were
about a dozen canvas tents, which evidently had been erected for this
especial occasion.

Nearly in the centre of the group of huts, a rude sort of scaffold, four
or five feet high, and surrounded by a rustic railing, served for the
speaker's stand. It would seat about a dozen persons, and was protected
by a roof of pine-boughs, interlaced together so as to keep off the sun,
without affording protection from the rain. In the rear of this stand
were two long tables, made of rough boards, and supported on stout
joists, crossed on each other in the form of the letter X. A canopy of
green boughs shaded the grounds, and the whole grove, which was
perfectly free from underbrush, was carpeted with the soft, brown leaves
of the pine.

Being fatigued with the ride of the previous day, I did not awake till
the morning was well advanced, and it was nearly ten o'clock when Andy
and I took our way to the camp-ground. Avoiding the usual route, we
walked on through the forest. It was mid-winter, and vegetation lay dead
all around us, awaiting the time when spring should breathe into it the