THE RACE THROUGH THE WOODS.
The boys and Adam were awakened very early on Wednesday morning by Bob,
and the colonel gave them scarcely time enough to eat their breakfast.
A wagon and two mules were at the back entrance to the hotel, and the
colonel, bidding them a hasty good-by, told them to tumble in and be
off.
“You’ve got to go lively,” he cried, “to get ahead of those caravaners.
And now, you Pete,” he shouted to the negro driver, “you make them
mules git!”
Pete whipped up, and away went our party along the sandy road that led
out of Titusville. For a great part of the way the road lay through
vast pine woods, where but few signs of life of any kind could be seen.
Before very long, they came in sight of the lonely house where the
“caravaners” had stopped, and Pete whipped up his mules, hoping to pass
the house before the party started; but this hope was vain; for, before
they got to the gate, two carts, each drawn by one horse, came hurrying
out, and immediately took the narrow road, on which there was but room
enough for a single vehicle.
The two carts were piled high with people and baggage; but the horses
were put to a gallop, and away they went, jogging and jolting over the
rough road. Pete whipped up and galloped after them.
“If we’d started three minutes sooner,” said Adam, “we’d been ahead of
’em, and been aboard long afore they got there. Them horses can’t keep
up that runnin’; but they can block the road for us, and that’s just as
bad. A lot o’ people like that, just cruisin’ round for pleasure, ain’t
got no right to swoop down without givin’ any notice, and swamp other
folks that’s got no time to lose.”
“Never mind,” said Pete, who was keeping his mules close to the tail of
the hindmost cart. “There’s a place up here where I can pass ’em, and
then you’ll see me cut ahead.”
In a few minutes an open place in the woods was reached, where, for a
short distance, there were two wagon tracks side by side, the road
having been changed, the original track being in a soft place, and full
of ruts and mud-holes.
The moment he reached this old road, Pete dashed into it, whipping his
mules into their wildest gallop. The wagon bumped and jolted over the
rough places, the valises nearly bouncing out, while the boys were
obliged to hold fast to their seats.
The horses and the carts were put to the top of their speed, and having
the best road, seemed likely to keep ahead of the wagon. But Pete
was not to be defeated. He had waited patiently for this opportunity
of passing, and he was bound to pass. The tough muscles of his mules
seemed able to pull the wagon at full speed over any road, without a
thought of tiring, while the horses and the heavily-laden carts were
beginning to flag.
With a crack of his heavy whip and a yell of triumph, Pete plunged
ahead, and dashed into the other road a dozen yards in advance of the
foremost cart.
“Hurrah!” cried Adam. “Now we can cut right along for the boat.”
“Dat’s so,” said Pete, his eyes sparkling and his mouth in a broad
grin. “We’s done beat ’em! Dere ain’t no other place where they can
pass, even if they could kitch up.”
“Which they can’t do,” said Adam. “There ain’t no more run in them
horses.”
The three boys looked back. In the front cart was an old gentleman and
an elderly lady, apparently his wife. These sat on one seat, while
another lady, holding a little girl, sat on some luggage, and the
driver, a negro boy, perched himself on a trunk in the front of the
cart.
In the second cart were two ladies, a short gentleman, in blue-flannel
shirt and high boots, and a number of children, apparently all girls.
These were piled upon valises and various articles of baggage, and
altogether made a pretty heavy load for one horse.
The hindmost cart now stopped, and the gentleman and two or three of
the girls got out and walked to ease the poor horse. Both carts then
came on at a slow pace, the party evidently having given up the hope of
reaching the steamboat in time to be well accommodated.
The boys now looked at each other.
“Look here!” said Phil.
“Fellows!” exclaimed Chap, at the same moment.
“That’s so!” said Phœnix, as if he had known what the others were
thinking of.
“Stop!” cried Phil to Pete.
The astonished negro drew up his mules, and Adam looked around.
“Let’s take some of those children in here,” said Phil.
“That’s so,” said Chap. “That’s just what I was going to say.”
“Plenty of room here,” said Phœnix. “A big wagon, and no baggage to
speak of.”
“Yes,” said Phil, “and I think it would be a mean thing for us to go
ahead, and get good rooms on the boat, and cut out all these ladies and
children.”
“Mean!” said Chap. “It made me feel like a boat-thief when we passed
them. Let’s have them come along and get the best accommodations they
can. We can stow ourselves away anywhere. Overcoats will do for beds,
and our bags for pillows. It’s only a three-days’ trip. What do you
say?”
“I say do it, of course,” answered Phil.
“So do I!” said Phœnix, emphatically.
Adam listened to all this, and then, with a smile, he said,--
“All right, if you all say so; but you’ll find pretty hard quarters if
the boat is crowded and you’ve got no beds.”
“Oh, we’ll get along,” said Chap. “Let’s go tell them.”
And the three boys jumped out of the wagon, while Pete was heard to
make some remarks which seemed to indicate that, without knowing it,
he had undertaken to drive a load of idiots to the Winkyminky.
The party in the carts seemed much surprised when the wagon stopped,
but when the boys came back and made their offer to carry some of the
children in the wagon, they were as much pleased as astonished, for
they were feeling very much discouraged, having an idea that they were
now going to have a pretty bad time on board the steamboat, and that
she might even start off without them when the wagon reached her, and
all her spare room was occupied.
“Much obliged to you,” said the gentleman in the blue shirt, who was
the father of the children. “It will help us ever so much if you will
take a couple of these girls into your wagon. I’m afraid our horses
will give out. We were talking about turning back, for I don’t believe
the Winkyminky has got more than two vacant state-rooms.”
“Oh, I guess we can all crowd aboard!” said Phil, cheerfully. “At any
rate, we’ll try. We did think of going on ahead, but afterward made up
our minds it would be better for all of us to go on together.”
“It is very kind of you,” said the gentleman, looking steadfastly at
the boys. “It is necessary for us to travel on as fast as possible.
This outdoor life does not suit my father,” pointing to the old
gentleman ahead, “as we hoped it would, and we want to get him to
Jacksonville, where he can have more comfortable quarters.”
“Why don’t the old gentleman and the ladies get into the wagon?” said
Chap. “We can pile into the carts, or walk. I think it is better to
walk than to ride over these roads.”
This proposition was demurred to, but the boys insisted, and although
the old gentleman and his wife declined to leave their seats in the
cart, it being difficult for them to get in and out of vehicles, the
three ladies and the girls were induced to get into the wagon, which
Adam cheerfully vacated to give them more room.
The procession now moved on, the gentleman with the blue shirt, who
carried a gun, walking with Phil, while Adam and Phœnix walked close
behind the wagon, to pick up any of the little girls who might fall out.
Chap strode ahead of all. He liked to walk alone, and look about,
and make observations for himself, and besides this, he happened to
remember that he was captain of the Rolling Stones, and that, whenever
it was practicable, it was proper for him to be in advance.
When they reached Salt Lake they found the little steamer lying about a
quarter of a mile from the shore, on which there was no sign of pier or
landing-place.
The wagons and carts drove directly into the lake, the bottom being
hard sand, and splashed along to the Winkyminky. When they reached
it, the water was a little over the hubs of the wheels, and when the
vehicles in turn drove up to the side of the boat it was easy, even for
the old gentleman and his wife, to step directly on to the lower deck.
There was a small flat-boat near the shore, into which the pedestrians
got, and a negro boy poled them to the steamboat.
The little Winkyminky was very much crowded, there being a dozen
passengers on board when our friends arrived, but the old couple and
the ladies were accommodated with beds, the captain giving up his room;
the children were to be stowed into various corners, while the men and
boys cheerfully undertook to find places to sleep when night came.
At first the boys wondered that larger steamboats were not put upon
this line, so that passengers could be more comfortably accommodated,
but they had not gone very far before they found why the Winkyminky was
so small.
[Illustration]