"On which side is the channel?"

"Sometimes on one side, sometimes t' other."

"Which side do you consider best?"

"I aint 'tendin' t' other people's business."

"Which side do the steamboats take?"

"Its owin' to what captain's on."

"Wouldn't you kindly advise me which side to take?"

"Reckon I bes' not."

"Why?"

"Frien's o' mine on both sides wants to see you."

"Plague take your incivility; how long will it take me to reach Lewisburg?"

"'Ts owin' ter how fas' yo' travel."

"How long does it take you to go?"

"I don't never go."

"How long did it take you to come from there?"

"Tuk me right smart while; but the team broke down."

"Confound it. Do you know what I think of you?"

"Nothin' thet ud spite my appyt.i.te."

"I think you are the blamdest fool in Arkansaw."

"Know what I think o' yo'?"

"What?"

"Thet yo're the devil come up ter cool himself off."

The fellow deliberately entered the cabin and closed the door, and Paul luckily struck the channel around the island.

The Arkansas river cuts under its banks much after the manner of the Missouri. Several places were seen where they had been undermined and sunk carrying sheep down that had been grazing near the edge, leaving the poor things hemmed in on one side by high banks and on the other by water. There they would starve rather than take to the river to get out.

Whenever Boyton ran across such places, he would either drive the sheep off or tell some one below to go up and get them.

Four days from the time of starting, he ran into Little Rock, the State capital, where he was pleasantly entertained. When the voyage was resumed, he was accompanied by Opie Read, the famous humorist, who enjoyed the river experience. They amused themselves during the day with the negroes, many of whom thought Boyton was a drowning man floating along. They would run close to the water's edge and yell at Read, who was pulling leisurely behind in a row boat.

"Hyah, man. Doan yo' see dat ar man drownen? G'on an pick him up."

"Not much, I wont pick him up." Opie shouted, "I'm going to let him drown."

"Hi, Eph; git yo' boat. Drownen man in de ribber. Spec he done drownded now," excitedly yelled one old auntie to a broad shouldered darkey who was running to the bank. Then as both boat and Boyton swept by, they could hear her say: "Dere's de onliest man ebber I see dat'll let a fellah human drownd afore his eyes. Him de wickedest man in de worl'."

One old negro with an armful of ear corn, dropped it with a look of horror and stood as if petrified, as far as the voyagers could see him.

Below Little Rock as night came on, a small steamer was encountered tied up to the bank and Paul and his companion spent the night aboard of her. It was that night that Boyton succ.u.mbed to something worse than rapids, quicksand or waterfalls. They had lighted their pipes after supper and were lounging about the cabin talking of their adventures, when Paul asked Read what kind of smoking tobacco he used.

"Old natural leaf," said Opie, "have some?"

"Don't care if I do."

The pipe was refilled and puffing away, Paul continued relating some adventure.

It was an interesting experiment to his listeners and they watched anxiously. They knew that that kind of tobacco must form a man's acquaintance gradually. It will brook no sudden familiarity. The smoke curled in fantastic wreathes about Boyton's head and the stories became less thrilling. His eyes gradually became yellow and his swarthy countenance turned a pale green. The words tumbled over one another and, got mixed up woefully.