by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XXXIV.
A BLAZE ON THE RIVER.
As Messrs. Plater and Grimshaw will not appear again in this story, itmay be as well to dismiss them at once. The well-conceived anddesperate effort to gain possession of the raft just described wastheir last attempt in that direction. They had watched Billy Brackettleave it, had enticed the ever-faithful Bim from it, and when, from aplace of concealment, they heard two of its remaining defenders goashore in search of the brave dog, their satisfaction was complete.Now they were sure of the prize for which they were willing to risk somuch. Stealing silently to the raft without attracting Binny Gibbs'sattention, they leaped aboard, proceeded to dispose of him, and at thesame time to set the _Venture_ adrift. Had not Binney's shout guidedSolon to the scene, success would have crowned their efforts.
The old negro was not a fighter by nature, but in defence of those heloved he could be bold as a lion. Consequently he rushed to the rescueof the boy whom he supposed was Winn Caspar without hesitation, andcareless of the odds against him. His coming, followed so quickly bythat of Billy Brackett and the arrival of the two boys, turned the tideof battle. Glen and Winn were compelled to plunge overboard and swimfor the raft, as it was already a rod or so from shore when theyregained the place where it had been tied.
The "river-traders" were unwillingly compelled to take the same plungea moment later, and as they swam towards the shore, which, fortunatelyfor them, was still near at hand, their hearts were filled withbitterness at their defeat, while plans for future vengeance werealready forming in their minds. But these were never carried out, forthe reason that, as they were making their dripping way into town, theycame across the mob bent on a deed of destruction that they themselveshad instigated. With it was Joe Riley, the operator, and as these werethe very men he was most desirous of meeting just then, he persuadedhis associates to devote a few minutes of attention to them.
As a result of this interview with one who knew so much about them andtheir business, their career as "river-traders" ended then and there.A few days later they left Cairo in company with Sheriff Riley, ofDubuque, who had come down the river on purpose to escort them north.Why they had been so anxious to recover possession of the _Venture_ wasfor a long time an unsolved puzzle to the crew of that interestingraft. That the reason was finally explained will be made as clear tous as it was to our raft mates before the end of this story of theirunique voyage down the great river. When it is, we shall probablywonder, as they did, that so simple a solution of the mystery had notoccurred to us before.
In the mean time the raft, once more in full possession of its rightfulcrew, is gliding swiftly with the mighty current through the starlitdarkness. Billy Brackett, with a heart full of sorrow over the loss ofhis four-footed but dearly loved companion, is on watch. The lantern,lighted and run to the top of the flag-staff, sends forth a clear beamof warning to all steamboats. In the "shanty," which looks very brightand cosey in comparison with the outside darkness, Binney Gibbs islying comfortably in one of the bunks, Solon is making himselfacquainted with the arrangements of his new galley, and the other twoare changing their wet clothing, while carrying on an animatedconversation regarding the stirring events just recorded.
"How jolly this would all be if it wasn't for poor Billy's melancholyover the loss of his dog," remarked Glen Elting, as he turned thesteaming garments hanging in front of the galley stove. "It was asplendid start, wasn't it, Grip?"
"Yes, I suppose so," answered Binney, a little doubtfully; "though Idon't believe it would seem quite so fine to you if you ached all overas I do."
"Perhaps not, old man. But you'll be all right again to-morrow, aftera good night in 'dream-bags;' and anyway, you must admit that thisbeats steamboating all to nothing. Just think, if we hadn't been luckyenough to fall in with this blessed raft, and Billy and Winn, and allthe rest, we should at this very moment be just ordinaryten-o'clock-at-night passengers, shivering on the Cairo wharf-boat, andwaiting for the New Orleans packet to come along. She's due there sometime this evening, yon know."
"Yes; and instead of that, here I am--"
"Here you are," interrupted Glen, seeing that his friend was about toutter a complaint; "and thankful you ought to be to find yourself here,too. Why, we'll be as merry as this muddy old river is long, as soonas Billy ceases to mourn for his dog. I'm a little surprised that heshould take it so much to heart, though. It isn't like Billy B. to becast down over trifles."
"Trifles!" cried Winn. "When you call dear old Bim a 'trifle,' you aremaking one of the big mistakes of your life, and you wouldn't do iteither if you had known him as well as I did. There never was anotherdog like him for wisdom and gentleness and pluck and--well, andeverything that makes a dog lovely. Why, that Bim would reason his wayout of scrapes that would stump a man, and the word 'fear' was neverprinted in his dictionary. Somehow I can't help thinking that he'llturn up all right, bright and smiling, yet."
"I don't see how," said Glen.
"Neither can I, and I don't suppose I could if I were in his place; butunless Bim is uncommonly dead, I'll guarantee that he'll come to lifeagain somehow and somewhere. In fact, I shouldn't be one bit surprisedto see him aboard this very raft again before our voyage is ended."
"I must confess that I should," said Glen.
"That's because you don't know him," responded Winn. "Isn't it, Solon?"
"I 'spec's hit must be, Marse Winn," answered the old negro.
"And wasn't he the very wisest dog you ever knew?"
"Yes, sah, he suttinly was, all 'ceptin' one, an' hit war a yallar'coon dawg wha' I uster own down in ole Lou'siana. I 'spec's he warjes a teenty mite more knowin' dan eben Marse Brack's Bim dawg. Hename war Bijah."
"How did he ever prove his wisdom?" asked Winn, incredulously.
"How him provin' it!" exclaimed the old negro, warming to his subject."Why, sah, him provin' it ebbery day ob he life more ways 'n one."
"Well, give us an example, if you can remember one."
"Yes, sah, I kin. An' I tell you-all one ob de berry simples' t'ingswhat dat ar Bijah ebber done. He war jest a ornery, stumpy-tail, 'coondawg, Bijah war, an' him know he warn't nuffin else. Dat's why hewon't go fer nuffin 'ceptin' 'coons--no rabbits, ner 'possum, ner fox,ner b'ar, ner nuffin--jes 'coons. But 'coons! Don' talk, gen'l'_men_!I reckin dat ar Bijah done know ebbery 'coon in twenty mile ob de MossBack plantashun. An' he knowed some fer 'coons wha' didn' 'low dey war'coons no way."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Winn.
"Dat's wha' I comin' to, Marse Winn, but yo' mus'n' hurry de ole man.One day I takin' de ole kyart inter town wif a load er wood, an' Bijahhe gwine erlong. When we comin' to der place whar de wood kyartsstops, I onyoked, an' Bijah he lyin', sleepylike, ondur de kyart. Ipassin' de time er day 'long some udder cullud fellers, an' tellin'wha' kind ob a 'coon dawg Bijah war, an' how he ain't know nuffin noway 'ceptin' 'coons. Suddint I see dat ar dawg kin' er wink he eye,an' raise up an' sniff de yair, an' den lite out licketty cut downerlong. Dey ain't nuffin on de road 'ceptin' jes a cullud gal, an' shea-turnin' inter de sto'.
"Dem fellers laff fit to bus' deirselfs, an' say, 'Hi dar! wha' datfine 'coon dawg gwine fer now?'
"I say, 'Him gwine fer a 'coon, gen'l'men, he suttinly am.' Yo' see, Ijes nacherly 'bleeged ter say so. Same time, I kin' er jubious.
"Afo' we comin' ter de sto', I heah ole Bijah gibbin tongue lak mad,an' I say, 'Him treed um' gen'l'men! him treed um fer sho'. But whenwe comin' dar, an' look in der do', I feelin' mighty sick. Dat arcullud gill she up in er cheer er-shyin' she umbrel at Bijah, an' himjes a dancin' 'roun', an' er-yelpin'.
"Well, ef dem fellers ain't laff! Dey jes roll deirselfs in de dus'.
"'Whar yo' 'coon dawg now? Whar yo' 'coon dawg?' dey axin; but I kep'on sayin' nuffin. I know dat gal, an' when I hit Bijah er clip to stophe noise, I say, berry polite, 'Mawnin', Lize. Yo' got any 'coon 'boutyo' pusson?'
"Den she say, snappylike, 'How I gwine get '
coon, yo' fool nigger! No,sah, I ain't got no 'coon 'ceptin' my ole man wha' I marry yistiddy hename _Coon_.'"
The shout of laughter that greeted this story was interrupted by theappearance of Billy Brackett at the door.
"Come out here, boys!" he cried. "There's a steamboat on fire andcoming down the river!"
This startling announcement emptied the "shanty" in a hurry. EvenBinney Gibbs forgot his aches and joined his mates outside.
There was no doubt as to the meaning of the column of flame that turnedthe darkness into day behind them. It was so near that they could hearits ominous roar, while the black forest walls on either side of theriver were bathed in a crimson glow from its baleful light. A vastcloud of smoke, through which shot millions of sparks, trailed andeddied above it, while, with the hoarse voice of escaping steam, theblazing craft sounded its own death-note.
As the monster came tearing down the channel of crimson and gold thatopened and ever widened before it, our raftmates were fascinated by thesight of its sublime but awful approach. They stood motionless andspeechless until roused to a sudden activity by Billy Brackett's shoutof "Man the sweeps, fellows! She is unmanageable, and headed for us asstraight as an arrow. If we can't get out of the way she'll be on topof us inside of two minutes more!"
Like young tigers the boys tugged at the heavy sweeps; but they mightas well have tried to extinguish the floating volcano that threatenedthem with destruction as to remove that mass of timber beyond reach ofdanger within the time allowed them. The task was an impossible one;and as they realized this fact, the crew of the _Venture_ prepared tolaunch their skiff, abandon the raft, and row for their lives.
"Like young tigers the boys tugged at the heavy sweeps."]
