IT was a big river,below Memphis;banks brimming full,everywhere,and very frequently more than full,the waters pouring out over the land,flooding the woods and fields for miles into the interior;and in places,to a depth of fifteen feet;signs,all about,of men's hard work gone to ruin,and all to be done over again,with straitened means and a weakened courage.
A melancholy picture,and a continuous one;--hundreds of miles of it.
Sometimes the beacon lights stood in water three feet deep,in the edge of dense forests which extended for miles without farm,wood-yard,clearing,or break of any kind;which meant that the keeper of the light must come in a skiff a great distance to discharge his trust,--and often in desperate weather.
Yet I was told that the work is faithfully performed,in all weathers;and not always by men,sometimes by women,if the man is sick or absent.The Government furnishes oil,and pays ten or fifteen dollars a month for the lighting and tending.
A Government boat distributes oil and pays wages once a month.
The Ship Island region was as woodsy and tenantless as ever.
The island has ceased to be an island;has joined itself compactly to the main shore,and wagons travel,now,where the steamboats used to navigate.No signs left of the wreck of the 'Pennsylvania.'
Some farmer will turn up her bones with his plow one day,no doubt,and be surprised.
We were getting down now into the migrating negro region.
These poor people could never travel when they were slaves;so they make up for the privation now.They stay on a plantation till the desire to travel seizes them;then they pack up,hail a steamboat,and clear out.Not for any particular place;no,nearly any place will answer;they only want to be moving.The amount of money on hand will answer the rest of the conundrum for them.
If it will take them fifty miles,very well;let it be fifty.
If not,a shorter flight will do.
During a couple of days,we frequently answered these hails.
Sometimes there was a group of high-water-stained,tumble-down cabins,populous with colored folk,and no whites visible;with grassless patches of dry ground here and there;a few felled trees,with skeleton cattle,mules,and horses,eating the leaves and gnawing the bark--no other food for them in the flood-wasted land.
Sometimes there was a single lonely landing-cabin;near it the colored family that had hailed us;little and big,old and young,roosting on the scant pile of household goods;these consisting of a rusty gun,some bed-ticks,chests,tinware,stools,a crippled looking-glass,a venerable arm-chair,and six or eight base-born and spiritless yellow curs,attached to the family by strings.
They must have their dogs;can't go without their dogs.
Yet the dogs are never willing;they always object;so,one after another,in ridiculous procession,they are dragged aboard;all four feet braced and sliding along the stage,head likely to be pulled off;but the tugger marching determinedly forward,bending to his work,with the rope over his shoulder for better purchase.
Sometimes a child is forgotten and left on the bank;but never a dog.
The usual river-gossip going on in the pilot-house.Island No.63--an island with a lovely 'chute,'or passage,behind it in the former times.
They said Jesse Jamieson,in the 'Skylark,'had a visiting pilot with him one trip--a poor old broken-down,superannuated fellow--left him at the wheel,at the foot of 63,to run off the watch.
The ancient mariner went up through the chute,and down the river outside;and up the chute and down the river again;and yet again and again;and handed the boat over to the relieving pilot,at the end of three hours of honest endeavor,at the same old foot of the island where he had originally taken the wheel!A darkey on shore who had observed the boat go by,about thirteen times,said,''clar to gracious,I wouldn't be s'prised if dey's a whole line o'dem Sk'ylarks!'
Anecdote illustrative of influence of reputation in the changing of opinion.The 'Eclipse'was renowned for her swiftness.
One day she passed along;an old darkey on shore,absorbed in his own matters,did not notice what steamer it was.
Presently someone asked--
'Any boat gone up?'
'Yes,sah.'
'Was she going fast?'
'Oh,so-so--loafin'along.'
'Now,do you know what boat that was?'
'No,sah.'
'Why,uncle,that was the "Eclipse."'
'No!Is dat so?Well,I bet it was--cause she jes'went by here a-SPARKLIN'!'
Piece of history illustrative of the violent style of some of the people down along here,During the early weeks of high water,A's fence rails washed down on B's ground,and B's rails washed up in the eddy and landed on A's ground.A said,'Let the thing remain so;I will use your rails,and you use mine.'But B objected--wouldn't have it so.One day,A came down on B's ground to get his rails.B said,'I'll kill you!'and proceeded for him with his revolver.A said,'I'm not armed.'
So B,who wished to do only what was right,threw down his revolver;then pulled a knife,and cut A's throat all around,but gave his principal attention to the front,and so failed to sever the jugular.
Struggling around,A managed to get his hands on the discarded revolver,and shot B dead with it--and recovered from his own injuries.
Further gossip;--after which,everybody went below to get afternoon coffee,and left me at the wheel,alone,Something presently reminded me of our last hour in St.Louis,part of which I spent on this boat's hurricane deck,aft.
I was joined there by a stranger,who dropped into conversation with me--a brisk young fellow,who said he was born in a town in the interior of Wisconsin,and had never seen a steamboat until a week before.Also said that on the way down from La Crosse he had inspected and examined his boat so diligently and with such passionate interest that he had mastered the whole thing from stem to rudder-blade.Asked me where I was from.
