"Right you are, lad; praying ain't much in my way--not regular praying; but we men as lives a life like this, and knows that at any moment a snag may go through the boat's bottom, thinks of these things at times, and knows that our lives are in G.o.d's hands. It ain't in nature to go up and down this broad river, special at night, when the stars are shining overhead, and the dark woods are as quiet as death, and there ain't no sound to be heard but the lap of the water against the bow for a man not to have serious thoughts. It ain't our way to talk about it. I think we try to do our duty by our employers, and if a mate is laid up, he need never fear getting on a shoal for want of a helping hand; and when our time comes, I fancy as there ain't many of us as is afeared of death, or feels very bad about the account they say we have got to render arterwards. It's different with the n.i.g.g.e.rs; it's their way to be singing hymns and having prayer-meetings, and such like. There is some as is agin this, and says it gives 'em notions, and sets them agin their masters; but I don't see it: it pleases 'em, and it hurts no one; it's just the difference of ways. I expect it comes to the same in the end; leastways, I have seen many a wreck in this here river, when whites and blacks have been a-looking death in the face together, and sartin the white man, even if he has been a hard man, ain't no more afraid to die than the black, generally just the contrary. That's my notion of things."

Frank nodded, and for a time there was silence in the cabin.

"How long are we likely to be in this fix?" Frank asked presently.

"Thar ain't no saying; supposing we don't bring up agin a snag--which the Lord forbid, for like, enough, the tree would shift its position, and we should find ourselves bottom upwards if we did--we may drift on for days and days. Still, we shall be safe to make ourselves seen as soon as the weather clears, and there are boats out again; we have only got to light a fire of wet wood to call their attention. I don't expect this here gale will last much longer; after another day it ought to begin to blow itself out. As long as nothing happens to this tree, and the boat keeps fast where it is, there ain't nothing to make ourselves uncomfortable about. We'd best have a look at them lashings; I tell you, there is a tidy strain on them."

Examining the ropes carefully, they found some of them were already chafed, and, dragging out a piece of wet canvas from the lockers, they cut it into strips and lashed it round the ropes at the points where they were chafing. The strain was indeed very heavy, for the tree and the waterlogged boat rose but little with the waves, and the bow was submerged deeply every time a wave pa.s.sed them, the gunwale being at no time more than a few inches out of water. Additional lashings were put on, and then Hiram and Frank returned to the cabin, and the latter dozed away the hours till morning, as did the negroes, Hiram remaining wide awake and watchful, and going out from time to time to look at the lashings. As soon as day broke Frank roused himself and went out; Hiram was just descending from one of the boughs.

"I have had a look round," he said; "I don't think it's blowing quite so hard, but thar ain't much change yet. It ain't not to say a cheerful kind of lookout."

Frank climbed up to take a view for himself, but he was glad to return very quickly to the shelter of the cabin. Overhead was a canopy of low grey cloud; around, a curtain of driving rain; below, a chaos of white-headed waves. The day pa.s.sed slowly, and with little change. Sam found in the fore-part of the boat the iron plate on which he built his fire. They fixed this on the roof of the cabin, fastened a tarpaulin across the boughs so as to shelter it from the rain and drift, and then, with some difficulty, managed to make a fire. Some hot coffee was first prepared, and a frying-pan was then put on and filled with slices of pork. The flour was wet, but Sam made some flat cakes of the wet dough, and placed them in the fat to fry when the pork was done.

"Not a bad meal that," Hiram said, when he had finished, "for a floating forest."

The negroes had now completely recovered from the effects of their fright and wetting, and their spirits, as usual, found vent in merry choruses.

"Just like children, ain't they?" Hiram said, as he and Frank re-entered the cabin, while the negroes continued to feast overhead, "crying one moment and laughing the next. But I have known some good uns among them too, as good mates to work with as a man could want, and as good grit as a white man." Another meal, later in the afternoon, alone broke the monotony of the day. The aspect of the weather was unchanged at nightfall, but Hiram a.s.serted that the wind had certainly gone down, and that in the morning there would probably be a break in the weather. They smoked for some time, and then the negroes dozed off, with their chins on their chests; and Frank was about to make an effort to do the same, when Hiram, who had been going in and out several times, said suddenly, "I reckon we are out of the main stream; don't you feel the difference?"

Now that his attention was called to it, Frank wondered that he had not noticed it before. The waves were no longer washing over the fore-part of the boat, and the sluggish efforts of the tree and boat to rise and fall with the water had ceased. He was still more struck, when he went outside, by the comparative silence. The wind still whistled overhead and swayed the branches, but the hiss and rustle of the water had ceased.

"We are out of the main stream, that's sartin," Hiram said, "though where we are is more nor I can tell till we get daylight."

Frank took the lantern and climbed up the bough which served as a lookout. It was pitch dark outside, and the surface of the water was no longer broken by white heads.

"Yes, we are certainly out of the main river, Hiram, and in behind some big islands. Where do you think it could be?"

"I reckon, lad, we are somewhere down near the mouth of the Arkansas.

The stream has been running mighty strong for the last two days, and the wind, catching all these branches, must have helped us along a good bit.

I reekon we can't be far away from the Arkansas. It's a bad stroke of luck drifting in here; we may expect to get hung up somewhere, and we shall be in a nice fix then, out of sight of boats going up and down, and with miles and miles of swamp stretching back from the sh.o.r.e.

However, it will be time to think of that to-morrow. There ain't nothing for us to do; just lend us a hand, and we will get this iron plate off the roof. The tarpaulin keeps off the rain, and I will fetch a couple of blankets, and we can stretch ourselves out here; I despise going to sleep sitting up."

Frank was sound asleep in a few minutes. He had a confused notion of feeling a slight jerking motion, and of hearing Hiram say, "There, she is anch.o.r.ed"; but he did not suffer this to rouse him, and, dropping off, slept soundly till morning. At the first stir Hiram made he was awake.

"We have had a goodish spell of sleep, I reckon, lad, and I feel all the better for having had my legs stretched out straight."

"So do I, ever so much; the wind seems to have gone quite down, and it has stopped raining."

"We shall have the sun up soon."

Frank was soon up in the lookout.

"I can see trees on both sides of us, but I can make out nothing more than that; there's a mist hanging over them, though it's clear enough on the water. We are not moving."

"I could have told you that," Hiram said, "didn't we get fast on something before we went to sleep last night?"

"Oh, I forgot about that; I was just off when you spoke, and didn't quite take it in. We are quite out of the current; the water is moving very sluggishly past us."

"So much the worse, lad; that's just what I fancied. We have got blown out of the stream, and got in behind some of the islands, and are perhaps at the mouth of one of the loops where there ain't no stream to speak of; useful enough they are when you are making your way up-stream, but no-account places to get stuck in. Now you darkeys below there, wake up, and let's have some food; you will soon have the sun up to warm you and dry your clothes a bit. By the time we have had our breakfast," he went on to Frank, "the mist will have lifted, and we shall have some chance of seeing where we have been cast away, and can talk over what's the best thing to be done in this here business."

The iron plate was replaced on the cabin, the fire was lit, and coffee and fried bacon were soon ready. The first sparkle of the sun through the leaves brought a shout of delight from the negroes, and directly the meal was over they cut away some of the small branches and let the sun stream in on to the roof of the cabin.

"That's enough, boys," Hiram said; "by midday we shall be glad of the shade. Now, let you and I light our pipes, lad, and take a survey, and then talk this job over."

On looking round, they found that the pa.s.sage, or creek, in which they were was some eighty yards wide; ahead it seemed to narrow; behind them, a bend shut out the view a quarter of a mile away.

"That's just what I expected. You see we have drove in here, and there's been just current enough to drift us on till the lower branches touched the bottom or caught in a snag; the water ain't flowing half a mile an hour now, and I reckon when the water begins to drop, which will be in a few days, if it holds fine, there won't be no current to speak of."

"But we are not going to stay here a few days, are we, Hiram?"

"Well, lad, I ain't no particular wish to stay here no time at all, if you will just pint out the way for us to be moving on."

"Well, we could all swim ash.o.r.e," Frank said; "the distance is nothing, and all the blacks swim."

"And how fur do you reckon the sh.o.r.e to be, lad?"

"About forty yards," Frank said.

"I reckon it to be miles, lad--twenty, perhaps, or forty for aught I know."

Frank looked at his companion in surprise.

"Yes, that is about it, lad. Don't you see them trees are all growing out by the water, and what looks to you like low bush is just the top of the underwood. The river, I reckon, must have riz twenty feet, and all this low land is under water. As I told you, we are near the mouth of the Arkansas, and for miles and miles the country ain't much better than a swamp at the best of times. You can swim to them trees, and roost up in the branches, if the fancy takes yer, and may be we may decide that's the best thing to do, when we have talked it over; but as to getting to land, you may put that notion out of your head altogether. I told you, lad, last night, I didn't like the lookout, and I don't like it a bit better this morning, except that I look to be dry and comfortable in another hour. What's to come after that I don't quite see."

Frank was silent. The prospect, now that he understood it, was unpleasant indeed. There they were with a disabled and waterlogged boat, in the middle of a district submerged for many miles, and surrounded beyond that by fever-stricken swamps, while the prospect of any craft happening to come along was remote indeed. For some minutes he smoked his pipe in silence.

"You consider it impossible for us to make our escape through the wood."

"Just unpossible, lad. We might make our way from tree to tree, like a party of monkeys, but we should get to creeks where we couldn't cross; we should be half our time swimming. We could take no food to speak of with us; we should get lost in the swamps, if ever we got through the forest. No, lad; my present idea is it is unpossible, though, if we detarmines at last there ain't nothing else for us to do but to try for it, Hiram Little ain't the man to die without making a hard fight for his life; but I tell you, lad, I looks on it as unpossible. You have been on these banks with me, and you know how thick the trees and bushes grow, so that a snake could hardly make his way through them. When the river is at her level the ground ain't about a foot or two out of water, and when the river falls--and it mayn't fall to its level for weeks--it will just be a swamp of mud."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A FLOOD ON THE MISSISSIPPI.]

"Well, in that case," Frank said, "it seems to me that our only chance is to repair the boat."

"That's just my idee, young fellow. There is a biggish hole on each side, the ribs are smashed in, and a lot of damage is done, but we could make a shift to mend it if we could get her ash.o.r.e; but there ain't no sh.o.r.e to get her to, that's the mischief of it; besides, here we are stuck, and if we were to cut away the tree to loose her she would go straight to the bottom."

"Yes, we mustn't cut her loose before we are alongside something. My idea is that if we first of all cut off all the boughs that are above us, close to the trunk, that will make a good deal of difference in the weight, and we should float higher. Then, with hatchet and saw, we must get rid of those below, taking a rope first to the trees and hauling her closer and closer alongside them as we get rid of the weight, till at last there is only the trunk and these two great arms that have nipped her. I think that way we might get alongside the trees."

"I reckon we might, lad. Yes, I don't see much difficulty about that.

And what shall we do when we get there?"

"I should get under a big tree, like that one over there, with that great arm stretching over the stream. We've got plenty of ropes, and I should fasten them from her bow and stern, and from her thwarts, tight to that arm overhead. When I got her fixed, I would chop away one of these arms that grip her, and let her float free. We have no tackle that would be of any use in hoisting her, but if we take the plug out of her bottom, she will empty as the river sinks, and hang there. Once she is in the air there will be no difficulty in patching her up."

"That's a capital idee, young fellow," Hiram exclaimed, giving Frank a mighty pat on the shoulder. "I do believe it is to be done that way. I tell you, I did not see my way out of this fix nohow, but you have hit upon it, by gosh! Here, you darkies, get them axes and saws out of the cabin, and clear away this forest."

An hour's work cleared away all the wood above water. The sun was by this time well above the trees; the negroes woke up to life and cheerfulness in its warmth, and worked vigorously.

"Before we do anything more," Frank said, "I will swim with a light line to that tree, and then haul the tow-rope after me, and make it fast to it; it is possible that when we cut away some of the other boughs the whole affair may turn over and sink, but if the tow-rope is fast we may be able to drag it alongside."