WELL, I catched my breath and
most fainted. Shut up on a wreck
with such a gang as that! But
it warn't no time to be sentimentering.
We'd GOT to find that boat now
-- had to have it for ourselves.
So we went a-quaking and shaking
down the stabboard side, and
slow work it was, too -- seemed
a week before we got to the stern.
No sign of a boat. Jim said he
didn't believe he could go any
further -- so scared he hadn't
hardly any strength left, he
said. But I said, come on, if
we get left on this wreck we
are in a fix, sure. So on we
prowled again. We struck for
the stern of the texas, and found
it, and then scrabbled along
forwards on the skylight, hanging
on from shutter to shutter, for
the edge of the skylight was
in the water. When we got pretty
close to the cross-hall door
there was the skiff, sure enough!
I could just barely see her.
I felt ever so thankful. In another
second I would a been aboard
of her, but just then the door
opened. One of the men stuck
his head out only about a couple
of foot from me, and I thought
I was gone; but he jerked it
in again, and says:
"Heave that
blame lantern out o' sight,
Bill!"
He flung a bag of something
into the boat, and then got in
himself and set down. It was
Packard. Then Bill HE come out
and got in. Packard says, in
a low voice:
"All ready
-- shove off!"
I couldn't hardly hang on to
the shutters, I was so weak.
But Bill says:
"Hold on --
'd you go through him?"
"No. Didn't
you?"
"No. So he's
got his share o' the cash yet."
"Well, then,
come along; no use to take
truck and leave money."
"Say, won't
he suspicion what we're up
to?"
"Maybe he won't.
But we got to have it anyway.
Come along."
So they got out and went in.
The door slammed to because
it was on the careened side;
and in a half second I was in
the boat, and Jim come tumbling
after me. I out with my knife
and cut the rope, and away we
went!
We didn't touch an oar, and
we didn't speak nor whisper,
nor hardly even breathe. We went
gliding swift along, dead silent,
past the tip of the paddlebox,
and past the stern; then in a
second or two more we was a hundred
yards below the wreck, and the
darkness soaked her up, every
last sign of her, and we was
safe, and knowed it.
When we was three or four hundred
yards downstream we see the lantern
show like a little spark at the
texas door for a second, and
we knowed by that that the rascals
had missed their boat, and was
beginning to understand that
they was in just as much trouble
now as Jim Turner was.
Then Jim manned the oars, and
we took out after our raft. Now
was the first time that I begun
to worry about the men -- I reckon
I hadn't had time to before.
I begun to think how dreadful
it was, even for murderers, to
be in such a fix. I says to myself,
there ain't no telling but I
might come to be a murderer myself
yet, and then how would I like
it? So says I to Jim:
"The first
light we see we'll land a hundred
yards below it
or above it, in a place where
it's a good hiding-place for
you and the skiff, and then I'll
go and fix up some kind of a
yarn, and get somebody to go
for that gang and get them out
of their scrape, so they can
be hung when their time comes."
But that idea was a failure;
for pretty soon it begun to storm
again, and this time worse than
ever. The rain poured down, and
never a light showed; everybody
in bed, I reckon. We boomed along
down the river, watching for
lights and watching for our raft.
After a long time the rain let
up, but the clouds stayed, and
the lightning kept whimpering,
and by and by a flash showed
us a black thing ahead, floating,
and we made for it.
It was the raft, and mighty
glad was we to get aboard of
it again. We seen a light now
away down to the right, on shore.
So I said I would go for it.
The skiff was half full of plunder
which that gang had stole there
on the wreck. We hustled it on
to the raft in a pile, and I
told Jim to float along down,
and show a light when he judged
he had gone about two mile, and
keep it burning till I come;
then I manned my oars and shoved
for the light. As I got down
towards it three or four more
showed -- up on a hillside. It
was a village. I closed in above
the shore light, and laid on
my oars and floated. As I went
by I see it was a lantern hanging
on the jackstaff of a double-hull
ferryboat. I skimmed around for
the watchman, awondering whereabouts
he slept; and by and by I found
him roosting on the bitts forward,
with his head down between his
knees. I gave his shoulder two
or three little shoves, and begun
to cry.
He stirred up in a kind of
a startlish way; but when he
see it was only me he took a
good gap and stretch, and then
he says:
"Hello, what's
up? Don't cry, bub. What's
the trouble?"
I says:
"Pap, and mam,
and sis, and --"
Then I broke down. He says:
"Oh, dang it
now, DON'T take on so; we all
has to have our
troubles, and this 'n 'll come
out all right. What's the matter
with 'em?"
"They're --
they're -- are you the watchman
of the boat?"
"Yes," he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied
like. "I'm the captain and the
owner and the mate and the pilot
and watchman and head deck-hand;
and sometimes I'm the freight
and passengers. I ain't as rich
as old Jim Hornback, and I can't
be so blame' generous and good
to Tom, Dick, and Harry as what
he is, and slam around money
the way he does; but I've told
him a many a time 't I wouldn't
trade places with him; for, says
I, a sailor's life's the life
for me, and I'm derned if I'D
live two mile out o' town, where
there ain't nothing ever goin'
on, not for all his spondulicks
and as much more on top of it.
Says I --"
I broke in and says:
"They're in
an awful peck of trouble, and
--"
"WHO is?"
"Why, pap and
mam and sis and Miss Hooker;
and if you'd take
your ferryboat and go up there
--"
"Up where?
Where are they?"
"On the wreck."
"What wreck?"
"Why, there
ain't but one."
"What, you
don't mean the Walter Scott?"
"Yes."
"Good land!
what are they doin' THERE,
for gracious sakes?"
"Well, they
didn't go there a-purpose."
"I bet they
didn't! Why, great goodness,
there ain't no chance
for 'em if they don't git off
mighty quick! Why, how in the
nation did they ever git into
such a scrape?"
"Easy enough.
Miss Hooker was a-visiting
up there to the town
--"
"Yes, Booth's
Landing -- go on."
"She was a-visiting
there at Booth's Landing, and
just in
the edge of the evening she started
over with her nigger woman in
the horse-ferry to stay all night
at her friend's house, Miss What-you-may-call-her
I disremember her name -- and
they lost their steeringoar,
and swung around and went a-floating
down, stern first, about two
mile, and saddle-baggsed on the
wreck, and the ferryman and the
nigger woman and the horses was
all lost, but Miss Hooker she
made a grab and got aboard the
wreck. Well, about an hour after
dark we come along down in our
trading-scow, and it was so dark
we didn't notice the wreck till
we was right on it; and so WE
saddle-baggsed; but all of us
was saved but Bill Whipple --
and oh, he WAS the best cretur
! -- I most wish 't it had been
me, I do."
"My George!
It's the beatenest thing I
ever struck. And THEN
what did you all do?"
"Well, we hollered
and took on, but it's so wide
there we
couldn't make nobody hear. So
pap said somebody got to get
ashore and get help somehow.
I was the only one that could
swim, so I made a dash for it,
and Miss Hooker she said if I
didn't strike help sooner, come
here and hunt up her uncle, and
he'd fix the thing. I made the
land about a mile below, and
been fooling along ever since,
trying to get people to do something,
but they said, 'What, in such
a night and such a current? There
ain't no sense in it; go for
the steam ferry.' Now if you'll
go and --"
"By Jackson,
I'd LIKE to, and, blame it,
I don't know but I
will; but who in the dingnation's
a-going' to PAY for it? Do you
reckon your pap --"
"Why THAT'S
all right. Miss Hooker she
tole me, PARTICULAR,
that her uncle Hornback --"
"Great guns!
is HE her uncle? Looky here,
you break for that
light over yonder-way, and turn
out west when you git there,
and about a quarter of a mile
out you'll come to the tavern;
tell 'em to dart you out to Jim
Hornback's, and he'll foot the
bill. And don't you fool around
any, because he'll want to know
the news. Tell him I'll have
his niece all safe before he
can get to town. Hump yourself,
now; I'm agoing up around the
corner here to roust out my engineer."
I struck for the light, but
as soon as he turned the corner
I went back and got into my skiff
and bailed her out, and then
pulled up shore in the easy water
about six hundred yards, and
tucked myself in among some woodboats;
for I couldn't rest easy till
I could see the ferryboat start.
But take it all around, I was
feeling ruther comfortable on
accounts of taking all this trouble
for that gang, for not many would
a done it. I wished the widow
knowed about it. I judged she
would be proud of me for helping
these rapscallions, because rapscallions
and dead beats is the kind the
widow and good people takes the
most interest in.
Well, before long here comes
the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding
along down! A kind of cold shiver
went through me, and then I struck
out for her. She was very deep,
and I see in a minute there warn't
much chance for anybody being
alive in her. I pulled all around
her and hollered a little, but
there wasn't any answer; all
dead still. I felt a little bit
heavy-hearted about the gang,
but not much, for I reckoned
if they could stand it I could.
Then here comes the ferryboat;
so I shoved for the middle of
the river on a long down-stream
slant; and when I judged I was
out of eye-reach I laid on my
oars, and looked back and see
her go and smell around the wreck
for Miss Hooker's remainders,
because the captain would know
her uncle Hornback would want
them; and then pretty soon the
ferryboat give it up and went
for the shore, and I laid into
my work and went a-booming down
the river.
It did seem a powerful long
time before Jim's light showed
up; and when it did show it looked
like it was a thousand mile off.
By the time I got there the sky
was beginning to get a little
gray in the east; so we struck
for an island, and hid the raft,
and sunk the skiff, and turned
in and slept like dead people. |