Part 24 (1/2)
That gentleman was very earnest in advising him not to start as he was in great danger of being seized with the fever.
”You have every indication of the fever now,” said the doctor, ”and if it attacks you on the water you will to a certainty die. However, if you will persist in going, all I can do is to tell you that as soon as you feel the symptoms, make for the sh.o.r.e and get into a bed as soon as you can.”
”What are the symptoms?” inquired Boyton,
”You become chilly and have a numb feeling all over.”
”All right, I'll look out for them,” and with that Paul waved a good bye to the mult.i.tude and struck gamely away in the teeth of the wind. As night came on he was tired and imagined he could feel the symptoms of which the doctor had warned him. He was just heading for sh.o.r.e when he heard a steamboat. He burned a red light for her and she slowed up. The pa.s.sengers on deck cheered him and the Captain sang out:
”How do you feel, Paul?”
”All right, report me above,” was the answer, and the boat headed on up the river. The diversion gave him courage to go ahead, and he struck out with renewed determination, running so well that he reached Baton Rouge at eight o'clock in the morning. From that city it was a home run of one hundred and thirty four miles to New Orleans. He started early next morning, though feeling very stiff and sore. The weather grew intensely hot, he suffered terribly and was burned almost black in the face, the skin of which peeled off. About eleven o'clock in the morning, on the gla.s.sy surface ahead, he noticed something bobbing up and down in a queer manner, and pulled away to investigate. He found it to be a dead mule swollen to gigantic size. While looking at it its tail flipped out of the water as though it were alive. It was then he became aware of the fact that a swarm of alligators were feeding on it, and he pulled away with about as much speed as he has ever been able to attain.
During the day he ran through a thickly populated country, along what is known as the lower coast of Louisiana; the river was fringed with rich sugar plantations, and a majority of the negroes who rowed out to see him, spoke the language of the French Creole. Magnolia trees were thick on either side and framed a picture of rare beauty.
While paddling for a short distance close in sh.o.r.e, Paul discovered a most unique and lazy style of angling. Happening to look up at the bank, he saw two pair of bare feet of heroic size, from which two fis.h.i.+ng lines hung, the corks bobbing on the surface a few yards from the sh.o.r.e. The broad bottoms of their pedal extremities turned to the river, the line pa.s.sing between the great and second toes to the water, and there they lay enjoying delicious sleep, waiting for a fish to swallow the bait, when the pull on the line would be felt between their toes and awaken them to attend to business. Paul took in the situation at a glance. Quietly drawing near one of the lines he gave it a vicious jerk.
The negro on the other end of it flipped to a sitting posture as though he was worked on a spring like a jumping jack. When he saw the black figure as he thought, on his line, he let out a shriek that could have been heard for a mile, at the same time springing to his feet and starting on a sprinting pace for some hiding place, yelling, as he ran, to his companion:
”Hyah Bill, git away from dar; git up an' cut. I'se done cotch de debbil on my hook.”
The other restful fisherman sat up stiffly as if worked on a rusty hinge, and seeing Boyton, was seized with an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He laughed as though he was never going to catch his breath, and Paul was afraid he would choke. He rolled on the ground in paroxysms of mirth, stood up and leaned against a tree shouting out such loud guffaws that it was difficult to tell whether it was through amus.e.m.e.nt or fright. Paul got out on the bank and tried to quiet him, but was unsuccessful and entered the water again and paddled away. For some distance the voice of that hilarious fisherman was borne to him on the breeze.
As evening closed in he could hear the darkies who had been paid off, it being Sat.u.r.day night, singing and arguing along the sh.o.r.e. A dense fog soon enveloped everything, however, and he could not see which way he was going. He seized the roots of a drifting tree, knowing it would keep in the channel, mounted it and sat there for hours floating with the current. All night the mocking birds along sh.o.r.e serenaded him. He would have remained on the tree until morning; but he heard the whistles of steamers below. Knowing that a fleet left New Orleans every Sat.u.r.day afternoon bound north, and that each would be trying to gain the lead on the other, he was afraid he would be run down, so he slid off the tree and made for sh.o.r.e. That course was not without its danger, also; for mingled with the beautiful songs of the mocking bird, he had heard the hoa.r.s.e bark of alligators and there was no telling but that he might run right on to some of them. They are thick along sh.o.r.e, but rarely go out into the river, except as in the case of the dead mule, they follow their prey. Luckily he avoided those dangerous reptiles. He sounded the bugle and a Frenchman came down to the bank. Paul explained who he was and the man eagerly invited him ash.o.r.e. ”I am sitting up with my old master who is dead,” said the Frenchman. ”What was the matter with him?” inquired Boyton, somewhat alarmed.
”Oh, it wasn't the fever, you need have no fear.”
Paul decided to land and wait until the fleet had pa.s.sed at any rate, then he lighted his lamp and pushed off through the fog, preferring the solitude of the river to the society of the grief stricken Frenchman.
The fog lifted in the morning and he found that he was on time. Ten miles above New Orleans, he was met by excursion steamers with enthusiastic crowds aboard. Captain Leathers of the famous old boat, Natchez, was determined to outdo the others in the way of welcoming the voyager, for Boyton was an old friend. He had a cannon placed on the deck of his boat, loaded to the muzzle. A crowd of negroes were jammed on a lot of cotton bales, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Paul and Captain Leathers fired right in amongst them. The concussion was so great that at least forty of the darkies were knocked off their feet and thought they were killed by the explosion. Paul landed at New Orleans, April 27th, finis.h.i.+ng a journey of two thousand four hundred and thirty miles. He was feted and lionized in the Crescent City until he was in danger of becoming enervated, so he boarded a train for the north, some thirty pounds less in weight than when he started at Oil City.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The summer of 1879 was idly spent. Boyton visited the most celebrated watering resorts of America and enjoyed a well earned good time. As the autumn leaves began to fall, he was seized with an irresistible desire to feel himself again afloat, so he turned his attention to the rivers of the New England States. He went to Boston, made a careful study of the maps, and concluded to take a voyage on the Merrimac; this river, with its numerous falls and rapids, he thought would furnish some excitement. The start was made from Plymouth, New Hamps.h.i.+re, at six o'clock in the morning of October seventh. The river was too rough for him to tow the Baby Mine along, a fact which he very much deplored.
Boyton had not paddled many yards from the sh.o.r.e ere he found the water so shallow that he was compelled to wade quite a distance before getting fairly under way, then he soon left the cheering crowd in the distance. About nine o'clock, approaching a bridge, he heard a rumbling sound. Looking up he beheld the figure of a man and horse outlined against the sky like a shadow picture. The countryman also discovered the queer looking figure in the water. He craned his neck, jerked his arms up and with mouth and eyes wide open slapped the reins on the horse's back and galloped off at a faster pace than the good agriculturalists in that locality are wont to ride. He had not read the newspapers.
An hour later, Paul blew his bugle in front of a farm house that stood near the river. The people ran to the water's edge and began firing a broadside of down east interrogatives with such rapidity as to nearly swamp him.
”Ain't yeou nearly drowned?” ”Ain't yeou afeard yeou will be?” ”Ain't yeou hungry?” ”Ain't yeou cold?” ”Ain't yeou hot?” ”Kin yeou keep awake?” ”Ef yeou cain't, would yeou sink?” ”Air yeou a orphing?”, ”Dew yeou like the water?” ”What circuse dew yeou belong tew?” ”Who hired yeou tew dew this?” ”Why on airth dew yeou travel this way fur instead of in a boat?”
Paul could not stand the rapid fire system of the New Hamps.h.i.+re rustics, and with a pained expression on his face he, pulled silently out of hearing. The narrowing river brought him closer to the banks, and as he was forging ahead an old gentleman hailed him. Paul stopped for a moment and was sorry for it, as the man tried to chill his blood with doleful stories of the dangers in the river below. ”Yeou air goin'
straight ahead tew destruction,” he bellowed, ”thar's a whirlpool jist ahead, where six lumbermen was drowned one time.”
Boyton had no fear of sharing the fate of the lumbermen, so he pushed ahead, leaving the old man standing on the bank with clasped hands and pained expression.
The voyager shortly reached the junction of Squam river, and there encountered the first waterfall. A crowd of men and boys had a.s.sembled on the bridge and anxiously watched him dash down on the rus.h.i.+ng waters, in which he was for the moment lost. Emerging from the boiling foam at the foot of the fall, he scrambled on a rock and stood up to look for the channel. From that point he had a wearisome pull in dead, choppy water, until he reached New Hampton. At many places along the route, well disposed persons were liberal with their advice to give up such an ”outlandish” mode of traveling and to ”git on land like a human critter.” Though the advice sounded well, Paul noticed on one occasion at least, that their methods of travel were not devoid of the danger ascribed to his. Above him, on the grim rocks of a bluff, he saw the wreck of a light wagon, and floating along with the current, were the seat and one wheel.
”Where is the driver of that wagon?” inquired Paul. No one knew and he plied his paddle vigorously in the hope of overtaking the unfortunate man who had evidently been hurled from the bluff into the stream; but no trace could be found. Below the sound of rapids was borne to his ear.
The smooth water began to break and start as if suddenly impelled forward by some subtle influence that meant to tear the rocks from the bed and crush every obstacle in its course. With all his care in steering through that rapid, he was thrown against a rock with considerable force, but caught hold of it and stood up to determine the course of the channel. Seeing an old lady standing before the door of a farm house, he rang out a cavalry charge on his bugle. She threw up her hands as though she had heard the last trumpet of the Day of Judgment, and rus.h.i.+ng into the house she alarmed all the occupants. The look of horror they gave the Captain as he stood on that rock in the midst of the rapids, beckoning to them with his paddle, was evidence that they took him for his Satanic majesty or one of his courtiers.