THE MISSISSIPPI.
Nov. 28, 1903.--Yesterday morning we left our moorings 45 miles below
St. Louis, and came down the river against the wind. This made waves
that pounded our prow unpleasantly. We passed the Kaskaskia chute,
through which the whole river now passes, since the Government has
blocked up the old river bed. A few houses mark the site of old
Kaskaskia. Nearing the end of the chute, the _Desplaines_ ran on a sand
bar, as the channel is very narrow and runs close to the shore, which it
is cutting away rapidly. It took two hours to free her. We tied up early
at Chester, as they desired to work the town. During the night we were
severely rocked by passing steamers, and bumped by the launch and skiff.
This morning the river was smooth as glass. The _Desplaines_ was not
through with their work, so we did not set out till 10:30. By that time
a gale had sprung up from the north and we had trouble. We were moored
by a single line to the shore, and as this was cast off and the
_Desplaines_ began to move, her towline fouled the propeller. We drifted
swiftly down toward a row of piles, but were brought up by the anchor
hastily dropped. The steamer drifted down against us, narrowly missing
smashing our launch, and getting right across our anchor rope. Blessed
be the anchor to windward. But the staple to which the cable was fast
began to show signs of pulling out, so we got a chain and small lines
and made them fast to the timbers of the scow, so that if the cable
broke they might still hold. Finally the rope was removed from the
propeller, and after several attempts they got hold of us and steamed up
to the anchor, so that five strong men could raise it. Then we went down
stream at a rate to terrify one who knew the danger, if we should strike
a sandbank. On we go, past the crumbling banks of sand stratified with
earth, with government channel lights at close intervals. The channel
changes from side to side constantly. We run by the lights, and are
somehow absorbing a wholesome respect for this great, mighty,
uncontrollable Mississippi. Today he is covered with whitecaps and the
current runs like a millrace. It is cold and the fire eats up wood
pretty fast.
* * * * *
Monday, Nov. 30, 1903.--Cape Girardeau, Mo.--We passed Grand Tower, and
greatly regretted the absence of sunlight, which prevented us getting
snap-shots of the scenery. Two miles below the town we tied up on the
Missouri side, with a good sandy beach alongside, our anchor carried
ashore and rooted into the gravel. A bad way, for if there were a gale
from the west the anchor would have soon dragged out. But the high
bluffs protected us against wind from that quarter, and our fenders kept
us out from the shore. Four steamers passed in the night, one of them
the fine _Peters Lee_. Who is it said that the commerce of the
Mississippi was a thing of the past? Just let him lie here on a
houseboat and he will change his views. No nets are to be seen here,
though probably the small affluents of the river would prove to be
provided therewith, were we to examine them. In the morning we found a
loaded hickory tree just opposite us, and the boys gathered a few nuts.
We also picked up a few white oak slabs, which make a fire quite
different from the light rotten drift.
The boys set out ahead in the launch with designs on the geese. The wind
set in about 10 a. m., but the river is so crooked that we could
scarcely tell from what quarter it blew. It was cold, though, and the
waves rough. As Glazier says, it seems to set in from the same quarter,
about that time daily, and were we to float without a tow we would start
early and tie up before the wind began. But that would depend on finding
a good place to tie, and altogether a man who would try to float a heavy
boat without power should take out heavy insurance first, and leave the
family at home.
Where the river is cutting into a bank and the current strong, the wind
whirling the cabin around, now with the current and again across or
against it, there is every reason to look for being driven ashore and
wrecked. Even were one to start about September 1st, and float only when
the river is smooth, he would run great risks. At one place the
Government had evidently tried to block up one of the channels by rows
of piling and brush, but the water ran through and was piled up several
feet high against the obstructions. The wind drove us directly down
against it and the fifteen-horse-power tug could just keep us off.
Without the power our boat would have been driven against the piling
with force enough to burst her sides and the piles as well, and a
crevasse and shipwreck would have resulted. In the afternoon a large
steamer passed up, leaving a train of waves so large that they washed up
on the front deck and under the cabin, wetting our floor in a moment. J.
J. is now nailing quarter-rounds along the edges, to prevent such an
accident again. We are told to have guards placed in front of our doors
to prevent them being driven in when waves hit us on the side; and I
think stout bars inside will be advisable. A stout wave would drive
these flimsy doors off their hinges.
Here we moored inside the bar, which protects us from waves coming from
the river. A number of cabin boats are drawn up on shore, the occupants
seeming mainly of the river tramp class. This is a nice looking town, of
possibly 10,000 people. Unpaved streets. Many brick blocks. Saw one
doctor, who seemed to have sunk into a mere drudge--no animation, no
enthusiasm, it was impossible to get any expression of interest out of
him. They bring milk here from an Illinois town 100 miles up the river.
We paid 25 cents for a gallon.
A very courteous druggist near the landing seemed to make amends for the
impassive doctor. Our pharmacal friend was a man of enterprise and had
an ice-cream factory as well as a large and well-appointed shop.
* * * * *
December 1, 1903.--Yesterday the _Desplaines_ wasted the morning trying
to do business in Cape Girardeau. Good town, but no enterprise, they
report. Excellent opportunity for a good grocery and provision store,
judging by the prices and quality of food products offered us. We ran
but 13 miles, tieing up in front of the warehouse at Commerce, Mo. A
small place, but they found a market for their extinguishers, with men
who had the old kind that required refilling twice a year. Curious
two-story stores, a gallery running around the whole room.
Shortly before reaching this place we passed two little cabin boats,
tied up; seemingly occupied by two big men each. They called to us that
they had been three weeks getting this far from St. Louis--about 145
miles. This morning we passed them a mile below Commerce, each with a
row-boat towing and a man at the stem working two sweeps. Looked like
work, but that is the real thing when it comes to cabin boating. They
were in the current, but working cautiously near shore.
It was snowing smartly as we set out about 7:30, but warmer than for
some days. The little one has had asthma badly for some days, but it
began to give way, and she had a fairly comfortable night. During the
morning we got in a place where the channel seemed so intricate that the
tug ran in to inquire of some men on shore; and in turning in, the house
ran against a projecting tree so swiftly that had we not rushed out and
held her off, the snag would have crushed in the thin side of the house.
To even matters, we picked out of the drift a fine hardwood board,
evidently but a short time in the water. Never lose a chance to get a
bit of good timber for firewood--you never have too much.
Plenty of geese flying and on the bars, but the wary fellows keep out
of range. Cleaned the Spencer and reloaded the magazine.
Miggles simply outdoes herself, nursing her sick mother, ironing and
otherwise helping Millie, and picking nuts for us. She has improved
wonderfully this trip, which is developing her in all ways. She eats
better than ever before, and is simply sweet. Cheeks rival the boy's in
rosiness. The boy likes to get in with the men, and we see no evidence
of talk unfit for an 11-year-old boy, but he returns very impatient of
control, and ready to pout out his lips if any authority is manifested.
The spirit of a man, and a man's impatience of control--but what would a
boy be worth who did not feel thus? No milksops for us.
We pass many men and steamers, barges, etc., doing Government work on
this river. Just above they are weaving mattresses of wood, which are
laid along where the river cuts into the land, and covered with brush,
earth and stones. Many miles of bank are thus treated, and some control
exerted on the course of the river. But what a task! Do the men engaged
in it get to take a personal interest in it, as does the trainer of a
race horse?
We now look for reminders of the civil war, and yesterday we saw on the
Missouri shore the white tents of a camp. Not the destructive army of
war, but the constructive forces of the modern genius of civilization.
The St. Louis and Mississippi Valley Railroad is building its tracks
along the shore, and every cliff is scarred by the cuts. And the great,
giant river sweeps lazily by, as if he disdained to notice the liberties
being taken with his lordship. But away back in the hills of
Pennsylvania, the prairies of the Midwest, the lakes of Minnesota and
the headwaters of the Missouri, in the Northwest Rockies, the forces are
silently gathering; and in due time the old river god will swoop down
with an avalanche of roaring, whirling waters, and the St. L. & M. V. R.
R. will have, not a bill for repairs, but a new construction account.