In the afternoon the boys took a swim in the river and introduced Tatanka to the ways and manners of a dugout. The lads had often traveled in a dugout before they went to Minnesota, and they soon convinced Tatanka that a log canoe was as safe as a birch canoe. In fact they claimed it was much safer, "because," they said, "you can ride on either side of it. You don't have to keep it right side up."

Barker also went down to the Yazoo River and took his first lessons in handling a dugout, but he soon returned to town to see if he couldn't find some way of getting into Vicksburg.

An old fisherman to whom Barker broached the subject, carefully, gave him this advice:

"Stranger," he said, "there be a fellow in the Union army somewhere. His name is U. S. Grant. Ye may have heard of him. They say he is much set on getting into that town. May be if ye and he put your heads together ye can find a way to get in."

"Look here, my friend," Barker replied, somewhat angered, "I have a very good reason for wanting to get into Vicksburg."

"I reckon ye have that," the old fisherman replied, testily. "I reckon ye are a Confederate spy or a Federal spy. If ye are, ye'll have to find your own way into town. Ye cant get me into trouble. Two of my sons are in General Pemberton's army, if they haven't been killed. I'm too old to fight, and I won't mix up with spies. Ye're the third stranger this week that's talked to me about getting into Vicksburg, so ye'll have to pardon me, if I'm a bit techy. I tell them all my boat's not running."

Barker protested that he was neither a Confederate nor a Federal spy.

"Well, if ye aren't a spy, ye can't get in. It's only birds and fish and spies that can get in. We can't even smuggle in a side of bacon for our boys. I hear they're eating rats and mules with young cane for vegetables."

Barker was silent. His sympathy went out to the old man, whom like thousands north and south the great war had made sad and lonely.

"If ye ain't a spy," the old man took up the conversation again, "I'll give ye a bit of advice. Don't ye talk to anybody about getting into Vicksburg. It's a bad subject for conversation just now at this place.

"The Union men would turn ye over to the soldiers, and there are still men here whose hearts are filled with hatred against the North.

"When the war began I hated Lincoln and all men north. I have seen enough of the men from the North that I hate them no more, but I am sad and lonely and I pray that the war may soon end."

CHAPTER XXII-THE OLD TRAPPER'S SECRET

The next day the boys and Tatanka again traveled in a dugout up and down the Yazoo River. Barker himself also went in a dugout within a mile or two of the point where the Union line touched the Mississippi.

He returned after the boys and Tatanka had gone to bed, but they were still awake, because Tatanka had been telling them how many years ago, he and five other men had gone on the warpath against the Chippewas, the hereditary enemies of the Sioux.

The Chippewas used to come down in canoes on the Mississippi and fall upon an unsuspecting Sioux camp. After taking a scalp or two they would leave their canoes and return north across the forest. The Sioux would follow them, but they could seldom accomplish anything because they were always in danger of being ambushed by the retreating Chippewas. It was one of those stories Tatanka had just told with much detail.

"Where have you been, Mr. Barker?" the lads asked.

"I have been scouting," the old man answered, apparently in high spirits. "I have taken a look at the rivers and the country and have visited with soldiers and officers and other men.

"I have also sent a letter to your parents."

"How did you do that!" the boys inquired eagerly.

"One of our soldiers tied it to a piece of green wood and threw it over the Confederate breastworks.

"It may not be delivered, but I took a chance at it."

The boys asked many other questions, but the old man would not talk and told the boys it was high time to go to sleep.

In the morning he told them that they were all to walk down toward the mouth of the Yazoo.

"We may camp there somewhere to-night," he said, "and we may come back.

We'll put plenty of lunch in our pockets, but we leave all our stuff right here."

They did not have to walk all the way. Various conveyances were going in their direction. It turned out that Barker didn't really want to go to the mouth of the Yazoo; instead he took his party several miles farther close to the bank of the Mississippi, about a mile above the place where the Union line touched the river. Here they made camp under a clump of low trees and Barker went to a neighboring farm house for a jug of water.

"We might as well eat," Barker suggested when he returned. "You boys must be hungry as wolves after our long tramp this afternoon."

"May we build a fire?" the boys asked.

"No, I think we had better not," the old man replied. "It might attract some visitors that we don't want to-night."

In the far North, the midsummer twilights last a long time. Along the international boundary one can read in the open until nine o'clock, but in the South, daylight pa.s.ses quickly into night.

When the four travelers had finished their supper it was dark.

"Mr. Barker," asked Tim, "are we going to stay here all night? It will soon be pitch-dark."

"Yes, it will be very dark. It is cloudy and it looks as if we might have a storm," admitted the trapper.

The lads were mystified by Barker's answer, but Bill felt that the trapper did not wish to answer any questions and that he had some secret plan to carry out.

But little Tim was less discreet. "Shall we build a lean-to?" he asked.

"No, Timmy," the old man answered, smiling. "I reckon we won't. If the good Lord sends us a shower to-night, I reckon we'll just get wet. The rains in this country are warm and it will not hurt us to get wet.

"Let's go down to the river and see the water run by."

The trapper led the way under tall trees, and the other three followed in silence. If Tatanka knew anything about Barker's plan, he did not betray his knowledge by either word or gesture.

At the foot of a large sycamore Barker stopped. It was now so dark that the trees across the river were not visible, but as the boys looked over the steep bank they could just see the bulk of a large dugout swaying in the current under some overhanging branches.

"Oh, Mr. Barker," Bill whispered, "somebody keeps his boat here. Can you see it?"

"Yes, boys," the old man replied in a whisper. "I know about it. It's our boat. I bought it yesterday.

"Just slip down as quietly as you can and lie down in the middle of it.

Tatanka and I will do the paddling.

"And no matter what happens, you boys keep quiet. We are going to Vicksburg."

"Mr. Barker, did you get a pa.s.s?" Tim whispered anxiously.

"Never mind, Tim," Barker ordered, "you just lie still and keep quiet now. Don't move and don't speak till I tell you."

Sitting low in the bottom of the craft, Barker and the Indian paddled the large dugout into midstream, where both sh.o.r.es were lost. For a little while they paddled without making the slightest noise, as if they were hunting moose or deer on their northern streams. Then Barker lifted his paddle out of the water.

"Down!" he whispered. "Lie flat and drift."