by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XIV.
A PEAL OF GIRLISH LAUGHTER.
In vain did Winn gaze in every direction, up and down the river, acrossits darkening waters, and into the shadowy thicket behind him. Therewere no objects in sight, save those with which he was already only toofamiliar. Again he began to doubt the evidence of his senses, and wonderif his mind had not become somewhat unsettled by his misfortunes. Butno, there was the ringing peal of laughter again. This time it wasaccompanied by a strange chattering sound such as he had never heardbefore. At the same moment a most delicious whiff of frying baconreached the hungry boy, mingled with the unmistakable and equallyenticing odor of coffee. There was no doubt as to the direction fromwhich these came, and plunging into the cotton-wood thicket, Winn madehis way diagonally up and across the tow-head.
In less than a minute he reached its opposite side, where he halted togaze with amazement at the very strangest-looking craft he had ever seen.At first he thought it a small stern-wheeled steamboat. She certainlyhad such a wheel, but then there was no chimney. Perhaps she was atrading-scow. Who ever heard, though, of a trading-scow with apilot-house such as this nondescript craft had on the forward end of itsupper deck? Besides, there were no sweeps, nor was she in the least likeany trading-scow Winn had ever seen. A low house occupied her entirewidth, and extended along her whole length except at the curve of herbows, where there was room left for a small deck. A structure with adoor and windows, that was somewhat larger than the pilot-house, rosefrom the upper deck near its after-end. There were three doors on eachside of the main house, a large one well forward, a small one nearlyamidship, and another large one well aft. There were also six smallwindows on each side, and from three of those nearest Winn a cheerfullight was streaming, while the other three were dark. There was a namepainted on the boat's side in such large black letters that even in thefading twilight Winn managed to read it--"_W-H-A-T-N-O-T_," he spelledslowly--"_Whatnot_! Well, if that isn't the queerest name for a boat Iever heard of!"
Just then, however, there were things of far greater importance to a boyin his situation than queer names. The tantalizing odors that werepouring from that after-window, for instance, and the sound of voicesthat rang out merrily from the two just beyond it. The boat was mooredto a tree, with her bows pointed up-stream, and had swung in so close toshore that by standing on a half-submerged log, which served as a fenderto keep her off a few feet from the bank, Winn could look into one of theopen windows. It was evidently that of the galley, for the odor offrying came from it, and half hidden in a cloud of fragrant steam was theform of a negro bending over a small stove.
This was a welcome and comforting sight; but hungry as he was, Winn'scuriosity was stronger than his appetite. He must see into those otherwindows, and discover the source of the merry laughter that had sosuddenly banished his loneliness and despair of a few minutes before.Cautiously advancing a few steps along the slippery log, he reached apoint that commanded a view of the room or compartment next forward ofthe galley. It was of good size, and occupied the entire width of theboat.
In the centre of this room was a table spread for supper, and beside it,so as to take advantage of its bright lamp, was a group that to Winnappeared both extraordinary and fascinating. A white-haired old man wasseated before an easel, on which was stretched a large canvas. A younggirl stood near him watching the movements of his brush with deepinterest, and at the same time evidently restraining, with gentle butfirm hands, the impatient struggles of something which she addressed as"Don Blossom," but whether it was a child or an animal Winn could notsee. In his effort to do so he stood on tiptoe, and just as the old manbegan to say, "There, Sabella, that will do for this sitting," the boy'streacherous footing slipped from under him.
With a half-suppressed cry and a loud splash he was plunged headlong intothe narrow space of water between the boat and the shore.
A frightened exclamation came from the interior of the boat, and then thesmall door on that side was flung open. At the same instant a woollyhead was thrust out of the galley window, and a trembling voice cried,"Golly, Marse Cap'n! Wha' dat ar? Yo' heah um?"
"Yes, Solon, I heard it, and you want to come here as quick as you can.Some one is in trouble," answered the old man, who was standing with thegirl in the open doorway. He held a lamp above his head, and was peeringanxiously in the direction of the splashings and flounderings that Winn,sitting in the shallow water, but tightly wedged between the log and theboat, was making in his efforts to extricate himself.
"Who's there?" cried the old man, who could not yet make out what wastaking place; "and what are you doing?"
"'Who's there?' cried the old man"]
"It's me!" returned Winn, regardless of his grammar; "and I am sinking inthis awful mud. Hurry up and push your boat away from the log, or Ishall be drowned!"
While the old man and the negro exerted all their strength at the pole,with which they finally succeeded in pushing the boat a foot or so outinto the stream, Sabella was also busy. Though greatly excited, andsomewhat alarmed by the unexpected appearance of a human being in thatplace, and his perilous situation, she still had presence of mind enoughto run for a rope, one end of which she fastened to the table. Shecarried the other end out through the door, and tossed it over the sidejust in time for Winn to catch it, as the moving of the boat once moregave him freedom of action.
Hauling himself up by this welcome rope, and at the same time beingassisted by the two men, the boy quickly gained the open doorway, wherehe stood blinking in the bright lamplight, while mud and water ran fromhim in streams. He faced the occupants of the boat, who, standing a fewsteps back in the room, regarded him with undisguised wonder, not unmixedwith suspicion. On the table behind them stood a small, gaudily-dressedobject, that Winn at first took to be a child. Upon his appearance itremained motionless for a few seconds, and then, with a frightened cry,it sprang to the little girl's shoulder, from which it peered at thestranger, chattering angrily all the while.
"Well, I am blest if this isn't a most extraordinary situation!"exclaimed the old man. "It suggests a tableau of Venus rising from thesea."
"Or a alligator," said the negro.
Sabella wanted to laugh at the comical spectacle presented by thedripping, coatless, hatless, bare-footed, and generally woe-begone boy;but pitying his evident embarrassment, she exclaimed:
"Uncle, how can you! Don't you see that he is shivering? You must go atonce and find him some dry clothes. Solon, show this boy to theengine-room, where he can change his wet things. Don Blossom, be quiet,sir! Aren't you ashamed of yourself!" Then, turning to Winn with acheery smile, she said, "We are very sorry for your accident, and shouldlike to know all about it after you are dry again. If you will go withSolon to the engine-room, he will do everything he can for you."
The Captain had already hastened away on his quest for dry clothing. Ashe left the room, Winn noticed that he had a wooden leg. It was not oneof the modern kind, so carefully constructed as to closely resemble thereal article, but an old-fashioned, iron-shod stick of timber strapped tohis right knee.
As Sabella finished speaking, she too left the room, running after theCaptain, and smiling cheerfully as she went at the mud-streaked boy, whostill stood speechless and motionless in the doorway.
Now, at Solon's invitation he followed the negro into what had beencalled the engine-room, though to Winn's eye it looked as little like anengine-room as any place he had ever known. At one side was ahorse-power treadmill, such as he had often seen used for the sawing ofwood. Half of it was sunk below the level of the deck, and covered witha removable floor. It was geared in the most direct and simple manner toa shaft that disappeared through the rear wall of the room, andpresumably connected with the stern wheel he had previously noticed.There was also a belt extending to a shaft pulley overhead, but beyondthis there was no trace of machinery, nor was there either boiler orfurnace. There was what looked like a stall at one end of the ro
om, butit contained only bales of hay and sacks of oats.
"Yes, sah, we uses a mewel-ingine when we hab um. We hain't got no mewelat de present time, but we 'specs ter contrac' fer one shortly,"explained the negro, noting Winn's inquiring glances, as he assisted himto remove his wet garments.
Before the boy had a chance to ask the questions that were at histongue's end, he, as well as the other occupants of the boat, wasstartled by a loud hail from the river.
"Hello! What steamer is that?"
"The _Whatnot_, of Dubuque," was the answer.
"Do you know the Sheriff of Dubuque County?"
"Who--Riley? Yes, I know him."
"Do you know his skiff?"
"As well as I know my own boat, for I built it."
"Have you seen it pass down the river to-day, containing only a boybetween sixteen and seventeen years old?"
"No. Haven't seen it or any other skiff. What's the matter? Has itbeen stolen?"
"That'll do, thank you. Good-night," came the reply, without an answerto this last question, and then the stranger passed out of hearing downthe river.
