EPILOGUE: The Fate of the Pictures
The public must have grown tired of exclaiming over the wonders of the moving pictures of the great Mississippi. After Pomarède we find no more of them. Five tremendous likenesses had been taken.1 The bluffs and the entering streams, the islands, the grass waving on the prairie, the tall trees on the river bank, the cotton fields and the wheat harvest, the cities, towns, villages, and lonely houses, the log huts and the mansions, the flatboats and the steamboats, the farmers and the soldiers, the Indians and the Negroes, the jolly flatboatmen and the notables, the forts, the fires, the wrecks in the river--every aspect of life along this mighty stream had been recorded that posterity might be fully informed how the father of rivers looked and behaved in the fabulous forties a century ago.
They are gone now beyond trace, these portraits of the Mississippi that so interested and delighted our great-grand-