NIGHT ON THE RIVER.
Sim Gwynn had a voice like a bull, and I wondered that he had not used
it, as he was in the habit of doing in all cases of peril or emergency.
The worst fear I had was, that he had fallen overboard; for it seemed to
me that nothing else could have prevented him from halloing. But I had
strong hopes that the next bend of the stream would remove my anxiety.
With the board I had torn from my raft I paddled with all my might; but
it seemed like an hour to me, in my deep solicitude for the fate of my
companions, before I reached the bend. At this point the stream made a
sharp turn, and I had the intense satisfaction of seeing the light on
the raft, on the right bank of the stream. The current set my craft
directly towards it, and I had only to use my paddle in keeping it from
whirling round.
A heavy load of anxiety was removed from my mind; but, as I approached
the light, I wondered that Sim was not on the lookout for me. I ran
alongside, and leaped upon the platform; but my clumsy assistant did not
present himself to give me a welcome. A cold chill crept through my
veins again, as I thought that he might have tumbled into the water, and
been swept away by the current. The door of the house was closed, as I
had left it, in order to keep the night air from Flora. Dreading lest
some mishap had overtaken her also, I pushed the door open and rushed
in.
My fears had been vain and foolish. Flora sat in her arm-chair at the
stove, just as I had so often seen her in the kitchen of Captain
Fishley, as calm and composed as though she had been on the dry land.
Opposite her Sim Gwynn sat on the floor, fat and happy, and wholly
undisturbed.
"What are you about, Sim?" I demanded, sharply; for I was vexed to see
him taking it so coolly, while I had almost worried the life out of me.
"About nothin'; been waiting for you," replied my deck hand, with his
customary grin.
"What did you let the raft go adrift for?"
"I didn't let it go adrift."
"Why didn't you keep her up to the shore?"
"She kept herself there."
"No, she didn't."
"Well, she's here--isn't she?"
"She is here, just where she ought not to be," I added, puzzled by the
apparent stupidity of Sim. "You ought to stay outside when I leave you
to take care of her."
"Miss Flora called me in to have me tell her what the matter was, and
she kept talking to me ever since," pleaded Sim.
"Don't scold him, Buckland. It was my fault; but I did not know anything
was wrong," interposed Flora.
"I'm not scolding him; but he should look out for the raft when I leave
her in his care."
"Well, I did look out for it. It didn't run away from me, and here it
is."
"If it didn't run away from you, it ran away with you."
"No, it didn't; here it is just as you left it."
"But the raft has come down stream more than half a mile since I left
it."
"Hookie! What's that?" asked Sim, opening his eyes.
"Didn't you know the raft had broken loose, and travelled down stream
half a mile or more?" I asked, filled with astonishment.
"I didn't know anything at all about it," protested Sim, vigorously.
"I'm sure I did not know that she had moved an inch," added Flora.
"That's strange," I continued, laughing. "When I came out of the swamp,
I couldn't find the raft, and I was afraid you would get to New Orleans
before I could catch you. Then I feared Sim had fallen overboard; and I
suffered a great deal in a very short time."
"I heven't been out of the house since you went away, and I heven't the
leastest idee that we were goin' on," said Sim. "I'll stay outside next
time."
"You must, Sim; for we shall never know where we are if you don't keep
your eyes wide open."
"What was it about the money, Buckland? Sim said you had forgotten your
money; but he did not know what you meant by it," asked Flora.
I explained what I meant, and that I had concealed my money in the swamp
to prevent the constable or the captain from finding it upon me.
"I am so sorry I called Sim!" pleaded poor Flora.
"It's no matter now. Perhaps it will be a good lesson for him and me to
learn at the start. Now we will push off and try again. It is lucky I
thought of the money when I did, for we could do nothing without that.
Come, Sim, bear a hand!"
"Buckland, can't I step out and see the raft go?" asked Flora. "I don't
like to stay in here."
"I'm afraid you will catch cold."
"No; I will wrap myself up in a blanket. I want to see how you manage
the raft."
I could not refuse her; and, wrapping her up in a blanket, I carried her
chair out to the side of the raised platform, and seated her in it. Sim
and I took the boards from the small raft, which had been so useful to
us in the swamp, and let the logs go adrift.
"Now take your pole, Sim, and push her off."
"She won't come off," replied the deck hand, after he had used all his
power in the attempt to shove her off.
I went forward, and found the end of the raft had run upon the root of a
tree, which held it fast. I was very grateful for the service this root
had rendered me, for the raft might have gone down to Riverport before
Sim discovered that anything was the matter. Fixing the poles
underneath, we pried the raft off, and the current started it on its
course again. I mounted the steering platform, and grasped the long oar.
The voyage had actually commenced.
My position was a novel one, for I had yet to learn even the art of
managing a raft. I found she had the same tendency to whirl around in
the current which had characterized her smaller counterpart; but the oar
was long enough to give the steersman a tremendous purchase, and the
erratic disposition of the craft could be overcome when taken in
season. I had to profit by experience, for before we reached the creek
she had whirled round three times, in spite of all my efforts to prevent
it. Before the raft was half way to Riverport, I had acquired the needed
skill, and she indulged in no more gyrations while I had the helm.
As we approached the steeples of Riverport, I heard the clock strike
one. Flora still sat in her chair by the platform, wondering how I could
see to steer the raft, and asked me a thousand questions. I tried to
have her go to bed, but she was not willing to do so till we had reached
the Wisconsin River, which she desired to see.
We were all excited, and did not feel sleepy. Sim took a luncheon, and
declared he never felt better in his life. It was the best fun he had
ever known, and he enjoyed every moment of it. Flora said she liked it
very much, but thought it would be pleasanter in the daytime, when the
ever-changing scene could be viewed in the sunshine.
"I'm sure I shall be happy on the raft for a month," she added. "There
will be something new to be seen every day."
"And we shall pass ever so many towns and cities, and the river will be
full of steamers and flat-boats," I continued, as the raft glided round
the bend into the great river. "Now we are in the Wisconsin, Flora; and
this is Riverport on the right of us."
"We can't see much of it."
"No; but you will find enough in the daytime to amuse you. I hope you
will sleep all night after this."
"I will go to bed now, Buckland," said she. "Good night."
"Good night, Flora."
She went into the house, and I heard nothing more from her till morning.
I know that she prayed for me that night, as she always did; and I
looked up to the shining stars, and commended her to the good Father.
More than ever before did I love her then, when her life and happiness
were more directly the care and study of my existence.
We were now on the broad river--broad compared with the creek, but small
in contrast with the mighty Mississippi, which we were yet to see. Sim
was forward, watching the dark outlines of the shores. Everything was
quiet without, though my bosom still bounded with excitement. I could
not forget that I was navigating the clumsy craft in which I had
embarked my fortunes, and which held the being most dear to me on earth.
I felt that a heavy responsibility rested upon me. Not a sound was to be
heard except the gentle ripple of the waters against the sides of the
raft; and the season was favorable to reflection.
But if the season was, Sim was not. He began to be weary of the solemn
silence and the deep gloom of the hour, and came aft to talk with me. I
saw that it would be necessary to keep him busy, in order to save him
from his own reflections, and the dulness which was sure to follow.
There was work enough on the raft to keep us both employed, and he was
in no danger of dying from inaction.
"Are you going to keep her a-going all night, Buck?" asked he, in a tone
so loud that it seemed to reverberate over the broad prairies which
bounded the river.
"Hush, Sim! Don't talk so loud," I replied, in a whisper. "You will keep
Flora awake if you do."
"Hookie! I didn't think of her," said he, slapping his great fist over
his mouth, in token of his intention to do better.
"We shall keep moving, night and day, Sim."
"Are you always going to set up all night?" he whispered.
"No; you must do it half the time. You must learn to steer, and you may
as well begin now."
"But I don't know how."
"You must learn."
"I don't think I can. I ain't much at anything except hard work."
"Take the oar, Sim, and try your hand at it. I had to learn, and you
must do the same."
He took hold of the oar with me, while I, in a low tone, explained to
him how to manage it. I then left it to his care. As I expected, he
permitted the raft to whirl around.
"I told you I couldn't do it," said he, in disgust.
"Keep trying. When you see her head going one way, put the oar in the
same direction. Don't wait till she is half round, but take her when she
first begins to wabble," I added, assisting him to get the raft into
position again.
But Sim did better than I had anticipated, and in half an hour he
declared that he had "got the knack of the thing." I watched him for a
while, until I had entire confidence in his ability. He was not so wide
awake as he had been earlier in the night, and some fearful gapes
suggested what he needed most. I had fixed up a bed for him on the floor
of the house, and I found that he was quite willing to turn in when I
gave him permission to do so. His excitement had died out suddenly; but
I had no doubt of his zeal when the time for the hard work should come.
I was not sleepy, or even tired, myself; and hour after hour, till the
daylight came, I stood at my post, solitary and alone, busy with
thoughts of the present and the future. The steering of the raft was
merely mechanical, after I became accustomed to it. I was glad to see
the morning light, and to hear the song of the spring birds. The sun
rose bright and beautiful, but my fellow-voyagers still slept. I enjoyed
the scene, and I permitted them to slumber as long as they would.