text:  There is nothing I detest like a monotonous wearisome Quaker's journey with every thing as tame and dull and uniform as at a meeting of broad-brims; but to be overtaken by darkness and a deluge in the middle of a maple-swamp to be unable to go three steps on one side without falling into the Tennessee with an impenetrable morass and thicket on the other hand a colossal walnut-tree barring the way in front and no possibility of turning back--this was even to my taste rather too much of an adventure