THE CANAL
I now left Baltimore, travelling alone, making my way as fast as
possible towards Chicago, where a canal was being built to facilitate
commerce between that large inland city, and deep water, at which
place I soon arrived.
On the banks of that canal were assembled the riff-raff of America and
the scum of Europe; men who wanted no steady employment, but to make
easy and quick stakes--for the pay was good--so as to indulge in
periodical sprees, or in rare instances, for the more laudable purpose
of placing themselves in a better position to apply for more
respectable employment. They came and went in gangs, for the work was
so hard that there were few men that did not require a week's rest
after a month's labour. So much for the rough but honest working
element. But unfortunately these canal banks were infested by other
gangs, who did not seek work, and yet were often to be seen loafing
about the various camps. Then how did these men live? For they could
not successfully beg, seeing that work was to be had for the asking.
Perhaps the explanation is that seldom a day passed but what a dead
body was dragged out of the water, and more than two-thirds of these
bodies bore the marks of murder. The bodies were not those of men
coming from the city in search of employment, but of such men as had
been known to have quit work a few days previous, having then had a
month's or more pay on their persons, and who had been on the way to
the city for enjoyment. Yes, these loafers were undoubtedly the thugs
and murderers, and if a man was inclined to hazard his life, all he
had to do was to make it known that he on the following day was to
draw his earnings, with the intention of walking the canal banks to
one of the distant towns. It was hardly likely that he would reach his
destination, but would be taken out of the canal some days later--a
murdered man. To defeat the purpose of these unscrupulous life-takers,
the more timid workmen waited for one another until they were
sufficiently strong in number to discharge themselves and travel
without fear. But alas! there was many a man who prided himself on his
own heart and muscles for protection and dared the journey alone. At
the time of which I write there had been no houses built on those
banks, therefore no women walked to and fro, and no children played
there. No doubt such are to be seen there at the present day, innocent
of the violence and the blood that was shed there in the past.
I had applied for work at one of these camps and being sickened of the
same in a little more than three weeks demanded my earnings at the
same time Cockney Tom and Pat Sheeny drew theirs, with the intention
of accompanying them to Chicago. Being somewhat delayed in business,
owing to the absence of the timekeeper, and being then compelled to
remain for dinner, we soon saw the impossibility of reaching the city
before midnight. Therefore it was arranged between us that we should
settle for the night at some place half way between the camp and the
city, and rise early so as to enter the latter before noon on the
following day. With this intention we started, after receiving dinner
and pay, and after several hours' walk settled down.
There would be six hours' darkness and it was proposed that I should
keep awake for the first two hours' watch, after which Cockney Tom
would relieve me, and Pat would then keep watch until daybreak.
Now, in my two hours' watch I had on several occasions heard a stir in
the adjoining bush, but not being able to see whether it was a man or
a beast, I had not thought it necessary to alarm my companions. At
last I considered my duty to be at an end, and, after rousing Cockney
Tom, settled myself for sleep. Before I closed my eyes I noticed that
the second watch was still lying recumbent, although he seemed to be
wide awake; but I was too intent on my own sleep to care whether he
would be faithful to his trust or not. I don't think I could have been
asleep more than fifteen minutes when I was startled by a loud shout
and, springing to my feet was just in time to see Cockney Tom in
pursuit of one who was then entering the bush. The Irishman was also
up, and we both followed the chase. We soon reached our companion,
finding him standing dazed and confused as to which way the quarry had
gone. He explained to us that when on watch he was lying down with his
eyes closed, but with his ears wide open, and all his mental faculties
at work. Suddenly, he heard a step near and opening his eyes saw a
stranger standing within three feet of him. It was at that moment that
he gave the alarm, but the stranger was too fleet to be overtaken. "No
doubt," said Cockney, "there is a gang of them at no short distance
from here and if we are wise, we will continue our journey at once. I
have seen the man's face before, at the camp, and know I shall
recognise him if we meet again." His advice of continuing our journey
was hardly necessary, for sleep was now out of the question.
In less than a week after the above incident we three, having
squandered our earnings in Chicago, were back at the old camp seeking
re-employment. There happened to be only one vacancy, which the
Irishman persuaded Cockney to accept, whilst we two would travel on to
the next camp, a distance of two miles. We were about to do this when
the boss ganger asked me if I would like a position in the boarding
shanty as assistant cook. Knowing that an assistant cook meant no more
than carrying water, peeling potatoes, washing dishes, keeping a good
fire and opening cans of condensed meat and preserves--I felt quite
confident in undertaking such a position. So the Cockney and I started
to work at once, but before doing so, arranged for the keep of Pat
until a vacancy occurred, his meals to be entered to our account. The
next morning his chance came and he was set to work.
We had been working four days, and on the evening of that fourth day
we three and a number of others were resting ourselves in a quiet
place near the camp. Whilst seated there, smoking and talking, there
came along four strangers, who seated themselves some distance from
us, but within earshot of our conversation. No one paid much heed to
them, for it was not unusual to be visited by strangers in quest of
work. But there was one man who could not keep his eyes from them, and
that was Cockney Tom. "Yes," he said to me after several long puffs at
his pipe, "that stranger, showing us his side face, is the very man
who attempted to rob us." Saying this the Cockney took off his cap and
laying it carefully on the ground with its inside uppermost, placed
therein his dirty clay pipe, as gently as a woman putting a sleeping
babe in its cradle--and to the no small surprise of his companions
began to address them in this oratorical fashion: "Gentlemen, some
time ago a man attempted to rob me and two others, and ever since then
I have been longing to meet him face to face. At last we meet, and I
would like to know what is to be done with him." "Why, give him a good
hiding, of course," cried several angry voices. On hearing this the
Cockney at once turned towards the strangers--whom he had hitherto
pretended not to notice--and in three bounds was standing over them.
Placing his hands on the shoulders of one he said in a calm voice,
"This is my man." The man referred to rose deliberately to his feet,
as though he had expected this, and his companions did likewise.
"Well," said he, "what is the trouble?" "You know quite well," replied
the Cockney, "so you may as well strip without further question."
Whatever the stranger was, he certainly was no coward, for his coat
and waistcoat were soon in the hands of his companion. The Cockney
lost no time, and the next minute they stood squaring before each
other in such a scientific way as promised the onlookers a most
interesting exhibition. Although the stranger was the taller of the
two, the Cockney seemed to possess the longer reach. Round after round
they fought, and in spite of their heavy and muddy boots the footwork
was neat, and the dodging of their heads, and the feinting of their
arms made the more gentle onlookers overlook the drawing of blood.
There was no wrestling, or mauling on the ground, and there was no
attempt at foul blows, for each of the principals seemed to value the
favour of that most appreciative assembly. It looked more like a
friendly exhibition than two men attempting to take life. The
spectators laughed approval and buzzed with admiration until even the
bleeding men, hearing this, chaffed one another, and smiled at each
other grimly with their battered faces. Yes, it seemed friendly enough
until the tenth round when the Cockney, who the round previous seemed
to show signs of weariness, called to his assistance some latent force
which set his arms to work like a pair of axes on a tree, and down his
opponent fell, and the battle was lost and won. The stranger was borne
away by his companions, and Cockney Tom returned to the camp to dress
his injuries, which did not prevent him from work on the following
day. The Cockney was well pleased with this exploit, and if his
opponent was one of those thugs and murderers, who had taken an active
part in perhaps fifty or sixty murders, he would certainly be lucky if
he never met with severer punishment.