The Last of the Flatboats

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER II

  HOW IT ALL BEGAN

  When the wheel shaft was tugged ashore, the boys slipped on theirclothes again and retired to the shade of the big sycamore tree, whereEd Lowry had left the book he had been reading. Ed Lowry always had abook within reach.

  Philip threw himself down to rest. He was not only tired, he wasphysically "used up" with his labors under water in tugging first oneand then the other end of the heavy shaft toward the shore.

  It would have been very hard work even in the open air. Under water, andwithout breath, it had completely exhausted the boy. Just now he wasbent upon sleep. So in spite of the sun glare, and in spite of thechatter around him, and still more, in spite of a sense of triumph whichwas strong enough in him to have kept anybody else awake, he fell into aprofound slumber.

  "Well, we've finished the job," said Constant Thiebaud after a while."What's the result, Ed?"

  Ed Lowry pulled a memorandum out of his pocket and studied it for awhile.

  "We have saved a trifle over three hundred tons of pig-iron," hereplied, "and for that, at $3.00 a ton, will get a little over $900.We're to get $50 more for the shaft, which makes $950. It'll be a triflemore than that, but not enough more to count. My calculation is that weshall have about $190 apiece when the agent settles with usto-night--possibly $195."

  "And a mighty good summer's work it is," said Will Moreraud.

  "Especially as it's been all fun," said Irv Strong, "to a parcel ofamphibious Ohio River boys who would have stayed in the water most ofthe time anyhow. It's better fun diving after pig-iron than aftermussel-shells, isn't it?"

  Irving was the only boy in the party whose people were comparativelywell-to-do, and who could therefore afford to think of the fun theyhad had without much concern for the profits. But Irv Strong had notrace of arrogance in his make-up. He could have dressed, if he hadchosen, in much better fashion than any other boy in town. But he choseinstead to wear blue cottonade trousers and a tow linen shirt, and togo barefoot just as his comrades did. So in speaking of the pleasurethey had had, he put the matter in a way that all could sympathizewith. For truly they had had more "fun" as he called it, than everbefore in their lives. Ed Lowry could have told them why. He could haveexplained to them how much a real purpose, an object worth strugglingfor, adds to the enjoyment people get out of sport; but Ed usually kepthis philosophy to himself except when there was a need for it. Just nowthere was no need. The boys were as happy as possible in the completionof their task, just as they had been as happy as possible in performingit. Satisfaction is better than an explanation at any time, and Ed Lowryknew it.

  There was silence for a considerable time. Perhaps all the boys weretired after their hard day's work. Presently Constant Thiebaud spoke.

  "A hundred and ninety dollars apiece! That's more money than any of usever saw before. I say, boys, what are we going to do with it?"

  There was a pause.

  "Let him speak first who can speak best," said Irv Strong. "So, EdLowry, what are you going to do with _your_ share of the money?"

  "I'm going shopping with it--shopping for some 'bargain counter'health," replied the tall boy.

  "How do you mean?" asked two boys at once, and eagerly.

  "Well, my phthisic was very bad last winter, you know. It isn't phthisicat all, I think. Phthisic is consumption, and I haven't that--yet."

  He spoke hopefully, rather than confidently. He hoped his malady mightnot be a fatal one, but sometimes he had doubts.

  Let me say here that his hope was better founded than his fear. For atthis latter end of the century, Ed Lowry--under his own proper name andnot under that which I am hiding him behind in this story--is not onlyliving, but famous. His bodily strength has always been small, but thework he has done in the world with that big brain of his has been verygreat, and his name--the real one I mean--is familiar to everybody whoreads books or cares for American history.

  "But whatever it is," Ed continued, "the doctor wants me to go South forthis winter, and now that I've got money enough, I'm going to do it."

  "But you haven't got money enough," said Irv Strong. "A hundred andninety dollars won't much more than pay your steamboat fare to NewOrleans and back. What are you going to live on down there--especiallyif you get sick?"

  The irrepressible Phil selected this as the time to wake up. "Well," hesaid, sitting up in the sand and locking his muscular arms around hisknees, "_I'm_ in this game a little bit myself. I've got one wholehundred and ninety dollars' worth of stake in that big pile of iron; andfrom Mrs. Dupont down to the last one-suspendered chap in the lot ofyou, you are all always talking about my 'obstinate pertinacity.' Well,my 'pertinacity' just now 'obstinately' declares that Ed shall take myshare in the stake and spend it for his health. He shakes his head, butif he won't, then I 'solemnly swear or affirm' that I'll take everydollar of it out to the channel there and throw it in. I'll--"

  But Phil had broken down. His affection for his half-invalid brother wasthe one thing that nothing could ever overcome. He didn't weep. That isto say, none of the boys saw him shed tears, but instead of finishingthe sentence he was uttering, he suddenly became interested in thepebbles along the river shore, fifty yards lower down the stream.

  Ed, too, found it difficult just then to say anything. Ed had alwaysbeen disposed to worry himself about Phil--to regulate him, and when hecouldn't do that, to suffer in his own mind and conscience for hisbrother's misdeeds--which, after all, were usually nothing worse thanmanifestations of excessive boyish enthusiasm, the undue use of slang,and an excessive devotion to purposes which Ed's calmer temper could notquite approve. Just now Ed had made a new discovery. He had found outsomething of the rattling, restless, reckless boy's character which hehad never fully known before. For he did not know, as the other boysdid, how Phil, a year ago, had waited for half an hour behind theschoolhouse, and armed with stones had wreaked a fearful vengeance uponthe big bully twice his size, who had used his strength cruelly totorment Ed's weakness. That story had been kept from Ed, because it waswell understood that he did not approve of fighting; and the boys, whofully sympathized with the little fellow's animosity against the bigbully, didn't want him censured for his battle and victory.

  So there was silence after Phil's declaration of his purpose, whichevery boy there knew that he would fulfil to the letter. At last Edsaid:--

  "On my own share of the money I could go by taking deck passage."

  "Yes," cried Phil, suddenly reappearing in a sort of wrath that was veryunusual with him--"yes, and live on equal terms with a lot of dirty,low-lived wretches--ugh! Now see here, Ed! I've told you you are to takemy share of the money. If you don't, I'll do exactly what I said,--I'llget it changed into coin, and I'll drop it into the river at a pointwhere no diving will ever get it. I've said my say. I'll do my do."

  "Look here," drawled Irv Strong, after a moment. "Let's _all_ go to NewOrleans, and don't let's pay any steamboat fare at all except to getback!"

  "But how?" asked three boys, in a breath.

  "Let's run a flatboat! In my father's day, pretty nearly all the hay,grain, bacon, apples, onions, and the like, grown in this part of thecountry, were sent to New Orleans in flatboats. I don't see why itwouldn't pay for us to take a flatboat down the river now. We've morethan enough money to build and run her, and we can get a cargo, I'll beta brass button."

  The boys were all eagerness. They knew, of course, what a flatboat was,but they had seen very few craft of that sort, as the old floatingflatboats had almost entirely given place on the Ohio to barges, towed,or rather pushed, by big, stern-wheel steamboats. For the benefit ofreaders who never saw anything of the kind, let me explain.

  A flatboat was simply a big, overgrown, square-bowed and square-sternedscow, with a box-like house built on top. She could carry a very heavycargo without sinking below her gunwales, and the house on top, with itsroof of slightly curved boards, was to hold the cargo. There was alittle open space at the bow to let freight in and ou
t, while a part ofthe deck-house at the stern was made into a little box-like cabin forthe crew. The scow part, or boat proper, was strongly built, with greattimber gunwales, and a bottom of two-inch plank tightly caulked. Thefreight-house built on it was so put together that only a few of theplanks were required to have nails in them, so that when the boatreached New Orleans she could be sold as lumber for more than she hadoriginally cost.

  She was simply floated down the river by the current. There were two bigoars, or "sweeps," as they were called, with which the men by rowingcould give the craft steerage way--that is to say, speed enough to letthe big steering oar throw her stern around as a rudder does, and guideher course. All this was necessary in making sharp turns in the channelto keep off bars; but as the flatboats usually went down the river onlyat high stages of water, the chief use of the oars was to make landings.

  Ed could have told his comrades some interesting facts concerning theenormous part that the flatboats once played in that commerce whichbuilt up the great Western country; but, as Irv Strong said, there was"already a question before the house. That question is, 'Why can't wefive fellows build a flatboat, load her, and take her down the river?'We'll be the 'hands' ourselves, and won't charge ourselves any wages, sowe can certainly carry freight cheaper than any steamboat can. We'llearn some more money, perhaps, and if we don't, we'll have lots of fun,and best of all, we'll 'bust that broncho,' or bronchitis of Ed's--forthat's what it is. They call it phthisic only because that's the veryhardest word in the book to spell."

  The sun was getting low, but the boys were deeply interested. They wouldhave determined upon the project then and there but for Ed's caution. Asit was, they made him a sort of committee of one to inquire intodetails, to find out what it would cost to build a flatboat, what livingexpenses would be necessary for her boy crew, what it would cost themfor passage back from New Orleans, and on what terms they could get acargo.

  This is how it all began.