A SURLY SKIPPER.
The grand bear "battue" came off, and I participated in the sport. I
enjoyed it all the more that Nat Bradley was not one of the hunters.
Had he been so, I might have been mistaken for a bear, and got a bullet
through my body. But he was not upon the ground, and I was saved from
such apprehensions.
For a time I saw nothing more of him, as he did not come near the
house. There were letters, moreover, received by my host, which I
fancied were from him. I thought so from having caught sight of the
messenger who carried them. He was the negro who had brought back the
horse.
After reading them, my host appeared suddenly affected with low
spirits. I could guess the nature of the correspondence. No doubt it
related to the gambling debt of which the creditor was now spitefully
claiming payment. I was happy in thinking it was no worse. For myself
I was no longer unhappy, except in the thought of parting from that
pleasant companionship to which chance had introduced me.
A change had come over my sentiments. So far from seeking an excuse for
hurrying away, I was now thinking of one by which I might gracefully
prolong my stay. A somewhat singular one suggested itself. I became
seized with the fancy to make a voyage upon a flat-boat! In this way I
could glide down to New Orleans, leaving my horse to be sent by steamer!
In truth I _had_ such a fancy; though I confess I might not have gone
so far as to attempt indulging it, but for the sake of the little
stratagem that had suggested itself. I knew that the cotton-boat was
coming down from Tennessee, and was to call at the plantation. It was
to bring barrels of apples, sacks of walnuts, and other etceteras
that do not thrive in the semi-tropical lowlands of the Mississippi.
Moreover it was to take thence some packages of skins--the spoils of
bucks, bears and panthers, which the hunting planter was in the habit
of sending annually to New Orleans.
A week or two might elapse before the flat could be expected; and if I
insisted on carrying out my caprice I could take passage upon that.
Such was my scheme.
It succeeded, and I found a plea for prolonging that intercourse, too
pleasant to be easily interrupted.
* * * * *
Another week elapsed--it seemed only a day--and the Tennessee flat
was reported at the landing. I could have wished it upon a snag, five
hundred miles up-stream.
There was no help for it. The time had come for taking departure.
* * * * *
The peltries of the hunting planter were sent aboard, along with my own
traps--these consisting of a spare suit of clothes, my chase trophies
collected during my stay, and a stock of comestibles to serve me during
a three-days' river voyage.
Bidding an adieu to Miss Woodley, which was not designed to be the
last, I walked toward the landing, my host going along with me.
On reaching the river-bank, we found the crew of the flat engaged in
getting the peltries aboard. I was a little surprised, and more than
a little chagrined, to discover that the captain of the craft was no
other than Mr. Black, her builder, whose uncivil behavior in Tennessee
had caused mean unpleasant reminiscence. Stinger, too, was there acting
as his mate, the hands, four in number, being negroes from Squire
Woodley's plantation.
The discovery caused me to repent of my design--a voyage of three
hundred miles in such company did not promise much pleasure, and I
regretted my rashness in having proposed it.
It was too late, however, to recede, though I was not long in
discovering that the captain of the craft would have been delighted by
my doing so.
Every thing had been got aboard, the packages of skins, with the large
case containing the souvenirs of my hunting achievements; but my
personal luggage and the provision-hamper still rested on the shore,
presided over by the plantation darky who had conveyed them to the
landing.
The crew of the flat appeared to take no notice of these last, but were
standing as if ready to draw in the plank.
"Mr. Black--I believe that is your name?" said my host, addressing
himself to the _ci-devant_ boat-builder--"I've brought you a passenger.
I hope you'll contrive to make him comfortable on the voyage."
"A passenger!" exclaimed the man, pretending surprise, for the negroes
must have told him I was coming. "There ar'n't room for a passenger,
Mr. Woodley."
"Oh, nonsense! You must _make_ room, somehow or other."
"The bit o' caboose we hev air arredy crowded. Thar's me and Mr.
Stinger in't, and thar's hardly room among the bales for the niggers to
streetch themselves."
"You can roll two or three of the bales out upon the roof. You haven't
far to take them now. By spreading a bit of tarpaulin over them,
they'll get no harm."
"We hain't got no tarpaulin--neery a rag."
"Have some of my skins then; they will do admirably."
This proposal placed the captain of the flat in a dilemma. It was
evident he did not wish me to proceed in his company, while at the
same time he was at a loss for some reasonable objection that he might
urge against my going.
What was causing his reluctance? I could guess. Neither could the
planter, who, at first surprised, soon became indignant.
"Come! Mr. Black," he said, "this boat is my father's property, and
therefore in some sense mine. My friend has expressed a wish to go down
upon it, and I have given him a promise he shall; I must therefore
insist upon your making the arrangement I propose, and taking him. Set
your men to work and roll two or three cotton-bales out upon the roof."
To this Mr. Black replied that the cotton would get spoiled, and that
he'd be in trouble with the broker to whom it was consigned.
"I'll be answerable for that," was the response of the young planter.
Since I had been his guest, I had not seen Henry Woodley in such a
temper. He seemed to think that his character as a host was at stake,
and felt the indignity of Black's behavior.
As his blood was up, I could see it would be of no use, my proposing to
stay behind. Nor, indeed, had I any intention of doing so. Uninviting
as was the prospect of making a three hundred miles' voyage in such
surly companionship, I was now all the more determined upon it. I had
originally committed myself to it as a subterfuge for prolonging my
stay at the plantation, and although here was now an additional excuse,
I could not creditably make use of it. To trudge back with my traps,
and tell Miss Woodley the reason why, would be a humiliation I was not
prepared to undergo. Sooner than do that, I would have consented to
sleep _sub Jove_ on the roof of the flat, with only my cloak to couch
and cover me.
I was quite as indignant at the interruption as my friend--perhaps
more determined that it should not stay me; and had the captain of the
flat-boat held out any longer, he would have heard a little bit of my
mind.
As it was, he reluctantly yielded to the remonstrances already made to
him, and consented to receive me as a passenger.
It was now discovered that there would be sleeping-room enough, without
disturbing the cotton-bales; and my traps were taken aboard and carried
into the "cabin."
An apology for what had happened on the part of the young planter--a
promise on my part to revisit him in the spring--a hearty hand-shake
between us, and I was afloat upon the "Father of Waters," passenger in
a "flat."