CHAPTER XXIV.
A CREVASSE ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
When Mrs. Shepard came on board, she seemed to be more composed. She declared that, when the whole country was under water, she felt better to be in a boat. During the night the water had risen nearly a foot, and the citizens were not a little alarmed. Hundreds of laborers were at work on the levees, and several small crevasses had been made a few miles above the city. We had engaged a pilot, though rather for the information he could give us than because we needed him in the navigation of the river.
Captain Cayo had taken leave of us, and Colonel Shepard had paid his bill for services and expenses. I liked the pilot very well; and I was sorry to lose him. The white man and the negroes rescued from the floating building stayed on board as long as we remained at the wharf. It was not easy for them to return to their homes; and they had no money to pay for their food and shelter. We made up a liberal purse for them, and divided it equally among them; and they went ashore very grateful to us for what we had done. Captain Blastblow said they made more money by coming with us than they could by staying at home.
At Colonel Shepard's request we "lashed boats" for the sociability of the thing. We rigged a plank bridge, with a railing to it, so that the ladies could pass from one steamer to the other without assistance, though Owen was always ready when the young ladies wished to pass from one to the other. After this job had been done, I went forward and found Cornwood at the helm, where I had left the pilot. I was not exactly pleased to see him at the wheel. After we had left the wharf, Nick and the Floridian had been permitted to enjoy the liberty of the deck, for I did not believe they would be likely to attempt to escape while the country seemed to be covered with water in every direction.
"What are you doing there, Cornwood?" I asked, as I entered the pilot-house.
"The pilot has gone below for some matches, and I offered to take the wheel while he was absent," replied Cornwood, in the mildest of tones.
"I will thank the pilot to call a deck-hand when he wants to be relieved," I replied.
"You think I mean mischief, I dare say," he added, with his silky smile; "but you can see that I can do no harm if I desired to, which I do not. Captain Blastblow is at the wheel of the other steamer."
At this moment the pilot came in, with a cigar in his mouth, and took the wheel.
"Captain Garningham, I should like to have a little talk with you," said Cornwood. He led the way to a couple of chairs on the forecastle, which had just been abandoned by the young ladies.
"Captain Garningham, I have been subjected to such an outrage as I never before experienced in my life," said the Floridian.
"I think you cannot greatly wonder at it," I replied.
"Should you wonder at it if a party were to come on board of the Sylvania, take you by force, strip you almost to the skin, and rob you of your money? That is precisely my case, and you say I need not greatly wonder at it," continued Cornwood, as mildly as he had begun.
"I think my case would be a little different from what yours was," I replied.
"As yet I have not even been informed of the cause of such brutal treatment. If you had stayed a few hours longer in New Orleans, and had not treated the men you picked up on the house so liberally, I should have sought a remedy in a writ ofhabeas corpus."
"I don't think you were quite ready to adopt such a course as that, for it would have resulted in having you sent to the calaboose to wait for a requisition from the Governor of Florida," I answered, laughing at what I considered the absurdity of the proceeding. "The only reason we did not hand you over to the police was that we were afraid of being detained as witnesses."
"I understand you; and I prefer to fight this battle in some other State than Louisiana. I shall not try to escape; and I know that Nick Boomsby will not. If I am not always honest, I am now; and I assure you I don't know the reason for the savage treatment I received on board of the Islander; and I will thank you to tell me. In a word, I entreat you to do so."
I concluded that Cornwood wanted to prepare for his defence, for I was satisfied that he understood the charge as well as I did. But he seemed to be so earnest over the matter that I went over the case for him.
"When you started from St. Augustine to recover the Islander, you were satisfied that Nick Boomsby had stolen the four thousand dollars," I proceeded.
"On the contrary I was satisfied that Buckner stole it," interposed Cornwood.
"I am stating my belief, be it right or wrong. When I told you about the sailing of the Islander without her owner and his family, you were satisfied that Nick was on board of her, and that he had the money stolen from the messenger."
"Nothing could be farther from the truth; but go on," added the Floridian.
"You would not have gone to Key West to stop the Islander at your own expense."
"I did go at my own expense," added Cornwood, with a smile.
"But not to stop the Islander," I added.
"I admit that I had another mission there. I had been thinking of going to Key West on business for a week."
"When you got there you forged a letter to Captain Blastblow, to induce him to leave before the arrival of the Sylvania," I added.
"That was a little harmless strategy to enable me to carry out the purpose for which I went to Key West," added Cornwood, with the smoothest of smiles.
"I never heard forgery called by that name before," I replied, with becoming severity.
"It was not to obtain money, or any other valuable consideration from Colonel Shepard that I wrote his name. Why, I could have made two hundred dollars by detaining the Islander," said the Floridian, with spirit.
"Instead of doing what he employed you to do, you sold him out, and let his steamer go off without him. You were satisfied that Nick had the four thousand dollars with him, and you were bound to have the half, if not the whole of it. It looks like a plain case."
"You are taking an entirely wrong view of the matter, Captain Garningham," protested Cornwood. "I shall be able to prove in due time that you are utterly mistaken."
"Two thousand dollars were found on you, and the same on Nick."
"I grant that this fact has a suspicious look about it; and I can not greatly blame you for your course, though the brutality exercised upon me was entirely unnecessary. Now I will explain the whole matter to you just as it was; and you will see that you were greatly mistaken."
"I am ready to hear anything you have to say," I replied.
"That four thousand dollars is a rather annoying coincidence," he began.
"I should think it might be," I added.
"You quite mistake my meaning. I am willing to admit that I have told professional lies in the interest of my clients. I am Buckner's counsel, though I told you to the contrary. He admitted his guilt to me."
"Did he, indeed? Did he tell you what he did with the package of bills after he took it from the counter?"
"He did: he acknowledged that he was guilty, and told me how it was done," replied Cornwood, with easy assurance, of which I had seen a great deal on his part. "Buckner's wife was at the door of the saloon, and he gave the package to her as he rushed out. She had it under her shawl before Nick got half way to the door. She went home; and my client considers it a successful affair. He offered me five hundred dollars to get him out of the scrape, and that is the fee for which I am working just now, in part."
"And he gave you the money, did he?" I asked, hardly able to keep from laughing in the face of the guileless Floridian.
"Not he, for his wife started for Kentucky, or some other state, as soon as she got the money. This is where the unlucky coincidence comes in. My first business in Key West was to see that Nick did not return home, as I feared you would compel him to do when you found him on board of the Islander. My second was to pay four thousand dollars, which I drew from the First National Bank of Florida Friday morning before I started for Cedar Keys."
"O, I see! That was where the four thousand dollars came from," I exclaimed.
"Precisely so. I was to pay it into the Marine Court, pending a suit in which I was interested, against a salvage company."
"But you did not pay it in."
"How could I when it was Sunday? I intended to do so the next day. When I found that Nick did not mean to stop in Key West, I directed Captain Blastblow to get up his anchor and hurry to New Orleans before the Sylvania came in. I could not get ashore myself when I had induced Nick to continue the voyage. The four thousand dollars was a burden to me, and I asked Nick to take part of it from me to keep till we got to our destination. The loss of it would ruin me, and I thought it would be safer in the care of two persons than one. That's the substance of it, and you can see that it explains the whole affair."
"I see it does: it makes it all as clear as Mississippi mud," I replied, laughing heartily.
"You evidently do not believe the statement I have made," said the Floridian, looking very much wounded in his feelings.
"Whether I do or not, Cornwood, we will not quarrel about it," I added, as good-naturedly as I could.
"I will show you some documents I have in my valise which will make it all as clear as the pure waters of Green Cove Springs."
"I think I will not look at them at present. Has Nick learned this story by heart?" I inquired. "He used to be a very bungling liar when we were small boys together; and I don't know whether he has improved any or not."
"I think it is rather cruel of you, Captain Garningham, to sport with my feelings when I have been subjected to such inconvenience and discomfort by you."
"I must be candid with you, Cornwood. If I take your statement for the truth, I judge that you are liable to the state prison, or whatever you call it in Florida, for what you have done. You know that Buckner is guilty, but you are engaged in a conspiracy to keep the principal witness out of court, which makes you virtually an accomplice to the crime."
"You forget the duty I owe my client, who has entrusted his sacred liberty in my keeping."
"Most of the lawyers I ever knew were honest men, and I don't believe one of them would resort to such a trick to clear his client. What's all that?" I exclaimed, as I saw a gathering on the levee of the right bank of the river.
"A crevasse in the levee," said the pilot. "It's a bad one, too."
A steamboat was backing her wheels near the opening, evidently to prevent being sucked into the breach by the furious current that poured through it. Quite a number of men were assembled on the levee, but they seemed to be incapable of doing anything to stop the flow of the water. When we came abreast of the crevasse, we could see through it to the country beyond. It was covered with water, which was pouring in through the breach at a frightful rate.
"That was done by the crawfish that burrow into the levees, for I see some of their houses on the top, where they go when it is high-water," said the pilot.
Just then a row-boat came to the crevasse, and fearlessly headed into the opening. In an instant it was swamped, and the two men it had contained were struggling in the mad current. They held on to their oars, and were swept rapidly inland.
"There will be a hundred lives lost by that break," added the pilot. "There are several plantations on that knoll, and the water is lifting the houses on it."
I could see the houses toppling over, half a mile from the levee.
CHAPTER XXV.
SAILING ACROSS THE FIELDS.
I was appalled at the terrible sight. It was an open country, and there were few trees to be seen, except around the houses at the plantations. It looked like an inland sea. I saw the two men struggling in the water at some distance from the levee. They were evidently trying to touch bottom with their feet, but the water was over their heads.
"How deep is the water on that flat, Mr. Pilot?" I asked, not a little excited at the idea of witnessing such a loss of life as he had predicted.
"I should say it was from eight to ten feet deep all the way to those plantations," he replied.
"Why don't one of the steamers waiting here go over to the assistance of those poor people?" I inquired.
"They can't get through, and they would be swamped if they should try it. The breach is not more than thirty feet wide, and these boats would stick till they were torn to pieces. They are so low in the water that it would put their fires out when they went through and fill their holds."
I looked about the decks of both our steamers, and found that all the passengers were on board of the Islander. I told Ben Bowman, who was on duty in the engine-room, to put on all the steam she could safely carry. He assured me he had enough for anything.
"Look out, Captain Blastblow, if you please, for I am going to cast off," I called to the Islander. "Keep the ladies in a safe place. All the Sylvanias on board!"
I went into the pilot-house, and rang to back the steamer. I kept her moving until we were in the middle of the river. I had carefully examined the crevasse, and I judged that the water was not more than two feet lower on the flat than it was in the river.
"How deep is the water in the cut, Mr. Pilot?" I asked.
"Not less than eight feet; and it may be ten. You can't tell."
I stopped the Sylvania, and then rang to go ahead at full speed.
"Are you going through the crevasse?" demanded the pilot.
"I see no difficulty in doing so. Mr. Washburn, see that every opening in the deck and deck-house is closed and securely fastened."
"It will be a ticklish business to go through that breach," said the pilot, shaking his head.
"Would you let a hundred people drown without doing any thing to save them?" I asked.
"Not if I could help it. I am willing to do all I can; but I shouldn't wonder if your boat made a dive into the mud on the other side of the levee, and stuck there."
"If she does we have two life-boats at the davits," I replied.
The Sylvania soon got up her best speed, and the pilot steered the steamer for a point just above the crevasse. I closed the windows of the pilot-house, and directed all hands to go on the hurricane-deck, except the engineers and firemen.
"I think you ought to stop the engine, for she will go through quick enough without any help," suggested the pilot.
"We must have steerage-way, or we can do nothing," I replied with quick tones, for we were within a few fathoms of the whirl of waters that were dashing through the crevasse. I felt the speed of the steamer increasing, and I firmly grasped the wheel with the pilot.
"You know this boat better than I do, and this business is a little out of my line; but I will help you all I can," said the pilot, who seemed to be fully self-possessed, though he was not used to handling a vessel like the Sylvania.
Washburn came into the pilot-house, after seeing that all the openings were closed, and the ship's company disposed in safe places.
"I don't think you will have any trouble going through there, Alick," said the mate.
"I don't know as you will, but I wouldn't take a river-boat through such a place unless she was insured for her full value," added the pilot.
"No more talking, if you please," I added.
We had entered the rapid current that swept into the crevasse. It was a thrilling moment, for the next minute would determine whether the Sylvania was to be swamped or not. But I had a reasonable degree of confidence in the vessel. She had always done all I expected of her, and I could hardly conceive of her disappointing me in this instance.
The people assembled on the levee uttered a long and deep shout of warning to us, but we had gone too far to recede even if we had been disposed to do so. I saw the two men who had been swamped in the small boat, still buoying themselves up with the oars; and beyond them the houses tottering over as they were undermined by the rising waters. The sight of these was quite enough to keep my courage up, and no thought of doing anything but trying to save those who must perish without assistance came to my mind.
The little steamer rushed madly into the opening, with her screw turning at its most rapid rate. When she had reached the fall she made a tremendous dive, as it were, burying her bowsprit in the muddy tide. Tons of the yellow fluid, loaded with sediment, flowed in on the forecastle and swept aft. I judged by the shock that she struck her fore-foot into the earth.
The muddy water swashed up, and entirely covered the windows of the pilot-house, leaving enough of the soil to make the glass as opaque as the levee itself. We could not see a thing outside after this volume of mud was discharged upon the windows. But in another instant I felt the bow of the steamer rising. The screw was still shaking the vessel, and I felt that no great injury had been done to her.
"Open the windows, if you please, Washburn," I said, trying to keep as cool as possible.
"We are all right now," added the pilot. "One of our river steamers would never have come up after that dive."
I rang the speed-bell as soon as I felt that we were fairly through the cut in the levee. A yell from the people assured us that we were all right, if we did not find it out before.
"I suppose you are not a pilot in these waters!" I continued, turning to Mr. Bell, for that was his name.
"Well, hardly, in these waters: at any rate I never took a steamboat over this ground before. But I reckon I can do it as well as any other man, for I was raised along here, and I know the lay of the land as well as the water," replied the pilot.
The escape of steam from the safety-valve showed me that the engineers had slowed down, though I could not yet perceive it in the motion of the vessel. We were approaching the two men on the oars, and I rang to stop and back her. There was no difficulty in steering the steamer after we were out of the swiftest of the current, and I left the pilot-house.
The Sylvania looked as though she had been buried in yellow mud for a year, and had just been dug out. The water had all passed out at the scupper-holes and swinging-ports; but the deck and a considerable portion of the deck-house were covered with the mud from the water. All hands except the chief engineer and one fireman had come out of the hiding-places, and were ready for duty.
"Clear away the starboard quarter-boat," I called. "Mr. Washburn, you will pick up those men, and do it as quick as possible, for we are needed at those plantations."
The crew got into the boat and lowered it into the water. In a moment more they were pulling with all their might for the two men, who were some distance apart. They picked them up, one at a time, and came back to the Sylvania. They hooked on the falls, and with the help of Ben Bowman and Hop Tossford, hoisted the boat up to the davits. The two men rescued from the water seemed to be very much exhausted, and we helped them on deck.
The moment the boat was out of the water, I rang to go ahead. I told Moses to let her run at half speed, for I was afraid she might strike against some hummock, or other obstruction, and stick in the mud, which would cause a delay, if nothing worse. I sent Buck to the top-gallant forecastle with the hand lead, and he reported eleven feet.
"The ground is low here," said the pilot; "but I think we can carry eight feet up to the knoll on which the houses stood. They must have had eight or nine in some parts of it, or the cabins of the niggers wouldn't have been upset."
"I think we can hurry her a little along here," I replied, ringing the speed-bell.
"By the mark twain," said Buck.
"He threw the lead into a hole that time," added the pilot.
"And a half-one," continued Buck.
"You will hold that all the way till you get to the knoll," said Mr. Bell. "We are going at a rattling speed."
"We shall be all right as long as we have eight feet. Our coal bunkers are pretty well emptied, and I don't know but we could go with seven and a half. It is plain sailing; but we must feel along when it gets down to eight and a half," I replied.
The two men who had been taken from the water came to the forecastle at this moment. They were covered with yellow mud, and of course they were wet to the skin. But it was a hot day, and the sun was shining brightly. When I asked them, they told me they had come from one of the steamers that had stopped at the levee to render assistance.
"Eight feet and a half," shouted Buck.
I rang the speed bell, which soon reduced our rate one-half. Buck still reported eight and a half. We were within a hundred yards of the mansion-houses, of which I could see four, the lower parts of which were under water. We could see the inmates in the second stories. But the negro cabins were upset and many of them were floating about. It was evident enough that they had been built on lower ground than the residences of the planters. The knoll was covered with shade-trees and shrubs, and the estates were as beautiful as anything I ever looked upon—that is, what I could see of them above the water.
"Eight feet!" shouted the leadsman, with energy.
I rang to stop her, for I could feel a sort of sensation as though the keel of the Sylvania was making a furrow in the field under us. The steamer stopped almost as soon as I rang the bell. But as the water was rising instead of falling, I did not feel at all concerned about her situation. I immediately ordered both boats to be lowered. Ben and Hop went off in one, and Buck and Landy in the other. Not far from the knoll, which could not have been more than three or four feet above the flat over which we had been sailing, I saw the boat the two men from the steamer had been swamped in. I told Buck to tow it to the steamer, and we had it alongside in a few moments. I sent the quarter-boat back to the rescue of the people in the houses and cabins. The river steamer's boat was full of water. We drew her under the davits on the port side, made fast to her, and hauled her out of the water, hoisting the bow end first, so that the water would run out of her. When both ends were abreast of the rail of the vessel, we tipped her over, and entirely freed her of water. I sent Washburn and Dyer Perkins in her to assist the other two boats.
Even at this important hour, the abominably dirty condition of the Sylvania, which had been bathed in mud, actually pained me. Away from the furious current of the crevasse, the mud settled, and the water was comparatively clean. Cobbington and the two waiters had been at work swabbing the quarter-deck, but with no good result. I directed the engineer to rig the fire-engine, and we soon drowned the decks with water. This, with the swabs, made clean work. By the time the first boat came off from the knoll, the Sylvania looked nearly as neat as when she had left the great river. The hot sun dried the planks about as soon as they were swabbed.
In the port-boat, under the direction of Ben Bowman, was a family of four persons whom I took to be the occupants of one of the mansions. A gentleman and his wife, with a son and daughter, were the first helped on board: nearly all the others were negroes. I showed the white people down into the cabin, and directed Cobbington to do all he could for their comfort.
In the course of half an hour we had seventy-two persons whom we rescued. We were unable to find any more. The three boats had searched every house which could contain a human being. They had taken men, women and children from the trees, as well as the houses. We sounded the whistle vigorously, and then waited for any call.
There were no more, and I directed the pilot to work back to the levee.
CHAPTER XXVI.
A DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH THE RUSHING WATERS.
The water had risen so that the Sylvania had swung around and drifted half-way up to the knoll, or to the houses on the highest part of it. As soon as we were under way, I had a chance to look over our large number of passengers. Three-quarters of them were negroes, mostly house-servants. I was told that the field hands had escaped in another direction before the water rose high enough to prevent it. The inundation was only partly due to the crevasse, for the water had broken in at some unknown point in the rear of the plantations.
We had taken off the four families that occupied the mansion houses. They were all highly cultivated people, ladies and gentlemen in the highest sense of the words. I had conducted them all to the main cabin; but they were not disposed to remain there. They wanted to see how the Sylvania was to return to the Mississippi River, and expressed many doubts as to her being able to make her way through the crevasse against the strong current. I had some painful doubts myself in this direction. I had told the engineer about them, and hinted that we should want all the steam he could carry. But it was only a question of the power of the engine to force the vessel against the current. There would be no pitching and plunging, such as we had experienced in coming the other way.
We had not long to deliberate upon the matter of our exit from the fields over which we had been sailing. As the water had risen about a foot inside of the levee, I considered our chances good of going through without much difficulty. I went to the wheel, and took a place by the pilot. I saw that several steamers had arrived during our absence, and the pilot said they were attached to the levee force, and had come to close the breach. I could not see how it was to be done, but I had no time to think of the matter. I rang the gong one stroke when we were within a hundred yards of the crevasse, as I had arranged with the engineer to do.
The Sylvania soon began to shake and quiver as though she were in the hands of an angry giant, under the pressure of the steam. I had sent all the passengers to the after part of the vessel, giving the planters and their families places on the hurricane-deck. I desired to trim her aft, as we had hardly coal enough in the bunkers to keep the screw entirely under water. I regarded it as an excellent thing to have so much "live ballast" on board. I gave Buck and Hop strict orders not to let a single person come on the forecastle.
I put Cobbington and Ben Bowman on the hurricane-deck, to keep the passengers there on the after part. If a few went forward, they would all do so, for it was the best place to see the operation of the steamer. By these means I hoped to keep the propeller entirely under water, and thus get the full benefit of its action on the swift current. It was still a torrent, but by no means so terrible as when we had gone through before.
Moses Brickland had never shaken the Sylvania as he was shaking her now. He was a prudent young man, and I never had occasion to criticise what he did. He understood the present situation as well as I did. The levee force was waiting to close the gap, and thus save many more lives miles from the scene of its operations. We must get through at once, or the gap would be closed. The abrupt fall was not more than a foot now, and I had strong hopes that we could overcome it.
It seemed to me that the water was rushing through the crevasse at the rate of twenty miles an hour. The arithmetic of the situation was therefore all against me. Moses had never run the Sylvania more than twelve knots an hour, and he was obliged to hurry her to do that. He had told me he could get fifteen miles an hour out of her on a great emergency, but he had never been disposed to try it. He had overhauled the boiler at New Orleans, and reported it in first-rate condition. Yet I could not, mathematically, see how a vessel going fifteen miles an hour could stem a current of twenty miles.
But the force of the current was merely guesswork. It might be twenty, and it might be no more than ten miles. Mr. Bell agreed with me on the former figure, while Washburn and Ben Bowman insisted that it was not more than ten at the present time. If I "split" the difference between the two estimates, it would leave just the result which the engineer could obtain on an emergency like the present.
The Sylvania went into the rapid current, which we began to feel at fifty yards from the gap. But it did not stop, or even sensibly detain us, for the water was scattered as soon as it passed through the opening. We made our course at a right angle with the levee, and kept the helm firmly against any tendency to "wabble;" for if the swift tide had struck her on the side, it would have hurled her around in spite of us.
At twenty yards from the levee we began to slacken our speed, for here we got almost the full force of the current. But she still went ahead, though she quivered as if the struggle would shake her in pieces. Not one of us said a word in the pilot-house. I directed the helm, for I was more accustomed to the working of the steamer than any of my companions.
The bow went up abreast of the inside of the dike. The Sylvania trembled like a race-horse after his first heat. We held her head steadily up to the work, but I could not see that she gained a single inch. The propeller whirled like a circular saw, such as I had often observed in the lumber-mills at home. I almost fancied that I could hear it buzz.
I watched the edge of the crevasse, but I could not see that we either gained or lost. For several minutes we struggled against the savage tide. It was a desperate situation. The people on the levee, now swelled into a crowd by the arrival of several steamers, were watching us with intense interest. No one spoke a word.
"Look out sharp for the helm, Mr. Bell," I shouted, so as to be heard above the roar of the rushing waters and the clang of the engine.
I thought he did not respond to my movements with the wheel as promptly as was necessary. I felt that the least turn to the right or the left would be fatal to us, for by this time I realized that the situation was vastly more perilous than when we went into the current before. The least "wabble" might cause the current to strike her on the side, and send her over on her beam ends in the vortex below us.
"Can't you crowd her a little more, Moses," I called through the speaking-tube.
"Not much more," he promptly replied.
"We are not losing anything," said the pilot, holding his breath.
"Mind the helm," I replied, for I felt that I could not hold her alone. "If we get the bow half a degree across the current, it is all up with us."
"I can hold her alone, but you take the feeling off my hands," he answered, warmly.
He meant that I began to move the wheel before he felt the pressure on his hands, for one steers a vessel very much as he drives a horse, and depends quite as much upon feeling as upon sight. My feeling was much quicker than his, and I would not give up the helm to him, but told him he must watch my movements.
"We have gained an inch!" exclaimed the pilot.
"What is an inch going through such a torrent as this?" I replied, though I felt encouraged by the fact, if it was a fact, for I dared not look to the right or the left, as he did.
It seemed to me that the steamer would soon go through the crevasse or shake herself to pieces in the struggle. The jar and the quivering were so much increased that I was sure Moses was doing something more than he ordinarily considered his best. In a few minutes more we had worried up the little fall, which indicated the difference between the height of the water on either side of the levee. We had gained several yards, but I don't think we made more than an inch a minute; and those minutes seemed like hours.
Suddenly the Sylvania began to increase her speed through the water, and I concluded that we had passed the swiftest part of the current. Washburn informed me that the stern of the steamer was inside of the cut, and I felt that the battle was won. Still I kept my eyes fixed on the flagpole forward, in order to hold the vessel in the middle of the gap.
"I think we shall fetch it," said Mr. Bell.
"No doubt of it, if we don't lose our chances by talking about them," I replied.
The pilot said no more. I did not want him to abate his zeal until we were outside of the levee, for it would have been the easiest thing in the world to lose all we had gained by the struggle of the last hour. We kept it up half an hour longer. When the bow was outside of the levee, I was afraid Bell would think we were safe, while it was still possible to be carried back. But the steamer increased her speed every moment now, and we were soon out in the broad river. I kept her on her course, and as soon as she was clear of the treacherous current, she darted off at a furious speed.
"All right, Moses!" I shouted through the tube. The next instant I heard the steam escaping furiously through the safety-valve. I had no doubt that the chief-engineer felt an intense relief when he heard my voice the last time, for no money or any consideration short of the safety of the Sylvania would have permitted him to put on such a press of steam.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bell, if I spoke sharply to you, or said anything that hurt your feelings, for I meant nothing of the kind," I said to the pilot, when we were in the middle of the river.
"Don't mention it, captain," he replied, warmly. "I can say, and I reckon I know something about steamboats, I never saw a boat better handled than this one has been from first to last. I thought I had only a boy for a captain, but I find that you understand your business."
"Thank you, Mr. Bell; you are very kind to say so," I replied, with a blush. "I think I know the feeling of this vessel's helm rather better than any one in these parts, and I was a little afraid you might not see the necessity of keeping her up, without any wabbling."
"You were right every time, captain. I never handled a craft of the sort before, and it was quite right for you to trust her to no one but yourself."
As soon as we were fairly out in the river, the people on the levees set up a volley of cheers, which was taken up by the negroes on board. I saw the Islander had made fast to a steamer a little below the breach, and I asked the pilot to lay the Sylvania alongside of her.
"Young man, you are a brave boy," said Colonel Hungerford, the planter who had first come on board of the steamer. "I was on the point of telling you before you started back, that you could never get through that hole; and I was going to tell you of a way by which you could have got through the lakes and streams into the Bayou la Fourche, and up that to the Mississippi. But I see you need no advice from me. We are all very grateful to you."
"I beg you will not feel under any obligation to us, for we are sort of sea-knights, roaming about in quest of adventures; and we were very glad of the opportunity to render you and others any assistance. I believe you and your family were in no particular danger."
"I don't know about that, my young captain," replied the planter, shaking his head. "My mansion is surrounded with verandahs, and the water was beginning to lift it off its foundations."
I took my glass and looked at the house. One end of it appeared to be lifted up.
"I would not have staid in it two hours more for half the state. I have been through three inundations before, and I know something about them," replied the planter. "I hope I shall see more of you."
As we came up to the Islander, the passengers of both vessels, on board of her, began to clap their hands. I was embarrassed by this demonstration, and after asking Washburn to see that we were made fast to our consort, I sat down in the pilot-house where they could not see me.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE PLANTER AND HIS FAMILY.
I was quite exhausted after my efforts and the strain put upon me, and I was in no humor even to be praised. Some of the negroes our boats picked up on planks and on their toppling houses might have been drowned; but I did not believe the people in the mansion-houses were in any great danger. However, I had never seen an inundation before, and I may have been mistaken. My father was one of the first to visit me in the pilot-house.
"You have done well, Alick," said he; and that was all he did say, for he was not given to praising any one beyond his desert. "What are you going to do with all these people?"
"We can land them, or put them on board of one of the steamers here," I replied; and I had not thought of the matter before.
"Mrs. Shepard is very nervous indeed, and is anxious to get away from this place," continued my father.
"The Islander might have gone on," I suggested.
"We could not leave until assured that you did not need the assistance of the other steamer. We were about to send a line to you and attach it to one of the steamers. The only trouble was to get a line long enough and strong enough."
While we were talking Colonel Hungerford came into the pilot-house. I introduced him to my father, and the planter indulged in more praise which I do not care to repeat. He informed me that he had chartered one of the river steamers to take his servants and those of the other planters down to Carrollton, a few miles below.
"I am now going on board of another steamer to inquire if she is bound up the river, for I have concluded to visit my brother at Baton Rouge. But I suppose my mansion will not be fit to live in for some weeks to come, if ever. I desire to know your address, Captain Alick,—excuse me, but that is what I hear others call you,—that I may communicate with you at some future time."
"Quite unnecessary," said my father, with a smile, as though he suspected the object of the inquiry.
"But I desire to express my sense of obligation to your son for the great service he has rendered me and my family," persisted the planter.
"You have done that already, sir, to my entire satisfaction," I added.
"You are very strange people, not to allow me to do something."
"We are decidedly averse to having anything done," replied my father, laughing, not because anything was funny, but to prevent the southern gentleman from taking offence at what he said. "My son owns and commands this yacht, and I dare say he will be glad to have you take passage in his steamer to Baton Rouge, or any other point on the river in our route."
"I shall be most happy to accept your very kind invitation," replied Colonel Hungerford, promptly.
By this time the steamer he had engaged to take his "people," as he called them, like one of the patriarchs of old, came alongside. The four planters had a consultation, as to what disposition should be made of the servants, and the business manager of one of them was appointed to take the entire charge of the party. The other planters were going to New Orleans, and the same steamer was to convey them there.
In less than half an hour the boat started, and we restored things to their former condition on board of the Sylvania and Islander. We lashed boats again, and restored the bridge from one vessel to the other. All hands were employed in cleaning up the Sylvania; and I asked Captain Blastblow not to allow any of his passengers or crew to come on board till this had been done. He complied with my request, and sent all his crew on board to help.
We did not get under way until this was done, as Moses wanted to overhaul the engine a little, for he declared that such a wrenching as he had given the machine was enough to start half the nuts and bolts. My father remained in the pilot-house talking with the planter. But the subject of their conversation was the inundation. I lay upon the sofa, resting myself, and rather dreading to meet the people on board the Islander, for I had been praised enough, and this sort of thing was becoming more embarrassing. As the hands were drowning the decks again, Washburn brought the family of Colonel Hungerford into the pilot-house, which was about the only place for them, unless they went into the cabin.
The planter introduced his wife, son and daughter to my father and myself. In the daughter I saw a very beautiful young lady; the son was very affable and pleasant, and the father and mother were not less so. All of them began to express their obligations to me, and I replied as cheerfully as I could.
"We shall have a very pleasant party up to Baton Rouge, Colonel Hungerford," I ventured to say, in order to turn the current of the conversation.
"It's no use, Blanche," said the colonel to his daughter, who had been the last to speak. "Captain Alick won't let you speak of any obligation, and he won't even give me his address."
"I don't think he has any address in particular at present," interposed my father, "unless it be on the high seas or the Great Lakes. I have not yet made a home in America, as I intend to do. When we have one, we shall be very glad to have you discharge whatever sense of obligation you may feel by making us a visit; and we shall judge of the depth of the obligation by the length of the visit."
"Upon my word, that would be an odd way to discharge an obligation; and we should be obliged to stay with you all the year round," replied the planter.
The young lady had snapping black eyes; and I saw that she wanted to say something, but was restrained by the newness of the acquaintance.
"If we had got out on the river half an hour sooner, we might have saved imposing ourselves upon your hospitality, for a large steamer went up then," said Colonel Hungerford. "She stopped a little while at the crevasse, I am told, but finding she could do no good, she went on."
"I am glad she did, as otherwise she would have cheated us out of your pleasant company," replied my father.
"You are very kind, Major Garningham," replied the colonel. "I confess I am greatly interested in your steamer, for I never have seen one like it before that I can remember."
Washburn reported that the engine was in order, and that the cleaning process was finished. I directed the pilot to blow his whistle and go ahead. In a few minutes we were again stemming the tide of the Mississippi. The crowd on the levees and the steamers honored us with a series of rousing cheers, to which the pilot replied with the steam whistle.
As soon as we were fairly out of the vicinity of the late exciting scene, the passengers of the Islander, including Mrs. Shepard, came on board. They were all presented to the planter and his family, and of course there was a great deal to say about the inundation, including the details of the escape of the people on the knoll. I found that the party were soon the best of friends, and I went into my room to lie down. I was so tired that I dropped asleep.
I was awakened by Captain Blastblow coming into my room. He seemed to be considerably excited; but I was sure he would not be where he was if any accident had happened to either steamer.
"Sorry to disturb you, Captain Alick, but this has been a very exciting time; and while we were all so busy, your two prisoners have taken to themselves legs or wings, and cleared out," said he, with a lugubrious gaze at me, as I sat upon the bed.
"Cleared out!" I exclaimed. "Where have they gone?"
"That's what bothers me. I kept my eye on them for a good while, but they behaved so well that I soon forgot all about them as we became so absorbed in the fate of the Sylvania," replied the captain, blankly. "I know I ought to have kept an eye on them to the end, and I am to blame. But it wasn't quite human to mind much about those rascals when we expected every minute to see your steamer fall back and be swamped. I had both boats ready to drop into the water."
"Gone, have they?" I repeated. "Haven't you any idea where they went? Your steamer was not near the levee, and they would not have gone ashore there, if it had been."
"I can only guess where they went. Not long before you got out of that hole, a large passenger steamer came alongside, and held on at our bowsprit-bitts awhile. She kept her wheels working all the time, while I was telling the captain what had happened. I am inclined to think that Cornwood and Boomsby stepped on board of her before she left. I found just now that their baggage was gone; and they could easily have got it out of the fore-cabin while I was talking to the captain. I am sorry for it, and if it hadn't been for that break, and your running into that hole, it would not have happened."
"How far ahead of us is that steamer?" I asked.
"She must be all of two hours ahead," replied Captain Blastblow.
"I am sorry we have lost them, but it can't be helped," I added, as I led the way out into the pilot-house where the passengers were assembled. I told my father of the escape of the robbers, and asked him if the money was still safe, meaning the four thousand dollars.
"It must be, for it was in my trunk in the Sylvania all the time you were inside of the levee," replied he. "But I will make sure of it." He went down into the after cabin, and returned with the intelligence that it was where he had put it. This was some relief; and we dropped the matter because we could not do anything about the escape of the rascals. I felt rather cheap about the matter, because I had not delivered them to the police at New Orleans.
While I was asleep, my father and Mr. Tiffany had directed Cobbington to remove their portmanteaus, as they called their trunks, from the grand state-rooms. They reported to me, and I assigned one of them to the planter and his wife, and the other to Miss Blanche. They were delighted with the apartments. Owen insisted upon giving up his room to Mr. Tiffany; and there were berths enough for my father and my cousin. Our cabin was about full again.
I saw that my father was very much pleased with the planter and his family; and I think one might have gone all over the country to find people more agreeable.
Supper was ready by the time the passengers had taken possession of their rooms and berths. I took the captain's place in the cabin for this occasion, though I often did so while we were in the river and the Sylvania was in charge of the pilot. Colonel Hungerford sat next to me on one side, and I told him all about the robbery of the bank messenger, and the escape of our prisoners.
He thought it very probable that they had taken the steamer bound up the river.
"Donaldsonville is the next town of any importance; and there we can telegraph to some place ahead of the steamer, and have the robbers detained by the police. Does any one remember the name of the steamer?" asked the colonel.
Miss Margie Tiffany remembered that it was the Queen of the South. Owen was so reckless as to say he was glad the prisoners had got away, and he hoped they would succeed in eluding the police. We were yachting on the Mississippi, and we could not bother with arresting and holding prisoners. We had the money they had stolen, and that was enough.
"We may find the Queen of the South at Donaldsonville when we get there," continued Colonel Hungerford. "It is seventy-four miles from St. Charles, which is the nearest post-office to my plantation. When shall we get there?"
"Not until early in the morning," I replied. "We can't get along very fast against this current."
"The Queen may be there, as she will arrive in the night, waiting for freight or passengers," replied the planter. "If you will allow me, I will take charge of the apprehension of those men, for I think I shall understand it better than you, as I have had considerable experience in such cases."
Colonel Hungerford looked slyly at his wife and daughter. I could not understand the meaning of his expressive communication; but I was entirely willing he should cause the arrest of the fugitives.