The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1891-09-19
COMMUNICATION.

titude.
I don't know how long it is nor how
wide, nor how high. but know it is
not very long nor very wide, o very
high, and in fact it is merely a sand
bal in jefferson parish which through
a toriiutous conjunction of wind and
wave has outgrown the other sand
bars that are strung along the coast.
The isla: d has been inhabited for a
time that the memory of nan runneth
not to the contrary by a population,
shy, timid. secluded, unenterprising,
suspicious of strangers, but still honest
as the world goes, who having given
their confidence are frank, free-heart-
ed and hospltable.
had heard that many of these peo-
pie are descended from members OF
Latitte's band, but | was unable to find
with certainty any snch, and in truth
their characteristics as | have describ-
ed them do not indicate such ances-
try.
That the island was. however one of
living as it does so near the mouth of
Bayou Barataria, which in those days
pushed a broad, deep, darkly-seclud-
ed stream to very near the present
site of Algiers, and which is known to
have been Latitte's fayorite approach
to New Orleans-an ideal channel for
the smuggle1's commerce. an ldyllic
harbor OF refuge for a skulking pirate.
| endeavored to find some hitherto
unpublished tradition of this man of
whom we have heard SO much. and of
whom we know so little. To this end
] approached several of the natives,
who Judging from their intelligence |
hoped could give me the desired in
formation, but the results were not en-
couraging. All of course had heard
talk of Lafitte but they could tell me
nothing new or strange of him.
At last | was referred to Mr.. Victor
Rigand who seems to be in some sort
the NestOr of the island
His dwelling, said to have been
built 140 years ago and the most an
cient on the island was carefully point
ed out to me and the way thitler
infinitely indicated-but he who es-
says to explore Grand Isle will find the
navigation, if l may use the word, as
intricate and perplexing as that of the
tortuons bayous and numberless bays
of the adjacent waters.
1t is a question il my mind wletL-
ct those people have not unconscious
" inflated on land the endless,
l~abarynthine windlngs Of their water
routes.
There is but one road on the island.
and that is of Natures making, the
bandiwork of of the unresting waves
the smooth, hard sand of the beach.
Elsewhere the ways are but obscure
foot-paths, here creeping beneath the
shadowy oaks along the higher grounds
midway between the sea and the bay.
Their following the crest of a levee or
embankment, with as many zig-zags-
angles, salient re-entering, as if it
had been designed by a military en-
gineer as a work of defense.
One of the gigs suddenly shoots O
into a narrow lane darklv hordered
with o~leanders, and prickly-ash and
yucca. and overhuDg with still darker
l~ive-oaks, and while among these
twilight shadows yon are still weakly
wondering why the path should pass
there when it could have much more
conviently gone straight on, YOU are
brought up standing by a bArbarous
barbed-wi:e fence, and you find that
after all the ~treacllerous road goes
some other way. You meekly retrace
your steps to what may in nautical
phrase be termed the point of last de-
parture. Arrived there, and knowing
that teh zig was wrong, you take a
zag-which cody turns you adrift- on
a wide fat, where the paths branch
from the common centre at your feet
like the sticks of a lady's fan. And
then you may wickedly swear if YOU
are very bad, and then you choose
among the many paths, that one you
think the right one, and which almost
sure to be the wrong one-and that's
the way | got to Mr.. Victer Rigand's.
On the devious road passed q
quaint little cemetery of about a
half-acrc square surrounded by an
ancient fence of tottering pickets,
where the brick uombs covered with
white stucco and surmounted by black
crosses where almost hidden in the
tangle of oleanders which at the period
of a previous visit in the month of
June Were flaming full of crimson
flowers.
Who can pass a cemetery without a
sigh
A cluster of queer-looking buildings
facing as many points of the compass
&c afpIaflV rncfor n,rf0p ST ~ "a no.
sibly can | pass by a truculent-
looking and very bonnv cow-a white
cow | remember.