CHAPTER XVIII
OVERBOARD
"Well, what's the program for to-day?"
"Down the river--more pictures--and make all the inquiries we can aboutour friends."
It was Joe who asked the question, and Blake who answered it. The movingpicture boys were getting breakfast aboard the motor boat, which wasstill safely tied to a big tree in the cove where they had made a stopthe night before, following the fire on the cotton barge.
It had stopped raining, but the sky was not clear, and the flood was allabout them, the waters being higher than ever. There seemed to be nocessation to the increase.
"We certainly are getting a fine lot of pictures out of it all,"murmured Joe, as he glanced at the pile of films in the water-proofcases.
"Yes, that's the one redeeming feature," agreed Blake, as he put thecoffee on to boil.
"How's the weather outside?" called Mr. Ringold, from his bunk.
"Nothing to boast of," replied Blake. "Looks as if it would rain moreany minute."
"Anything out there worth filming?"
"Nothing much--a lot of stuff coming down the river, but we've gotenough of that," spoke Joe. "I only wish we could have filmed theburning cotton barge, but we had enough to do as it was, to get clear ofit ourselves."
"I should say so," came from Blake, as he recalled the danger of thenight before.
Breakfast over, preparations were made for again moving down stream. Theboys got the camera ready to take any scenes that might be worthfilming, and Mr. Ringold and C. C. took charge of the boat.
As the lines were being cast off, there came rowing along the stream,close in to shore, so as to keep out of the strong current, a farmer ina skiff. He seemed somewhat surprised to see our friends, but hailedthem, asking:
"I say, you folks ain't seen nothin' of a spotted cow critter aroundhere; have you?"
"A cow? No," answered Blake. "We saw one floating down in a barn a dayor so ago. Was she yours?"
"No, my barn's still on land, but my spotted cow critter is missin' andI thought maybe you folks might have seen her."
"She'd have to be swimming if she was around here," remarked Joe,looking at the waste of water.
"Yes, I reckon so," agreed the farmer. "She jest naturally likes towander off, that spotted cow critter of mine does. I guess she'll bedrowned some day. Well, I'll look a little farther, and then I'll gitback. Water's gittin' higher all the while. Where you folks bound for?"
"No place in particular," Blake informed him. "We're looking for somefriends of ours."
"There's been a good many lost in this flood," the farmer said. "I hadtwo hens and a rooster drowned in the last flood. I lived on low groundthen. I've moved back a piece since. I'm hopin' the water don't come upto me now."
"Is there any town near by--below here?" asked Mr. Ringold. Theirsupplies were getting low, and needed replenishing.
"Yes, quite a good sized one about three mile down the river. The folksis workin' hard too, to keep the water out. There's a big shipment ofcotton on the wharves waitin' for a boat to take it off, I hear. But ifshe don't come pretty soon the cotton will go floatin' off by itself.They can't git no help to move it back, 'cause all the men are busy onthe levee."
"That might make a good picture for us," suggested Blake to Joe, whenthey had called good-bye to the farmer who was looking for his "spottedcow critter."
"I believe it would," agreed Joe. "We'll have a try at it, anyhow."
"Kill two birds with one stone," said Mr. Ringold, "we'll get supplies,and pictures too."
They started down stream, proceeding with care, for there was an unusualquantity of debris in the river--logs, part of lumber rafts, dismantledhouses, barns and sheds. But the _Clytie_ was navigated safely throughit all.
Our friends had gone about a mile, when, as they went around a woodedpoint of land, they saw a curious sight. It was a large steamer,stranded inland, about a quarter of a mile from the water. It was listedto one side, and about it were many men, engaged in digging a trench, orcanal, so as to float the craft back into the stream.
"Well, what do you know about that?" cried Joe, in surprise.
"Got to film her, all right!" declared Blake.
"How could such a thing happen?" C. C. Piper wanted to know.
"They probably went through a 'cut-off,'" explained Mr. Ringold, "andmust have gone aground. Then, before they could float her, the waterstook a new direction, made a new channel, and left the steamer where sheis. I've read of such things, but never saw one. We'll go over and findout."
The motor boat was directed to a point nearest the inland steamer, and,taking the camera, Blake and Joe went ashore, followed by the managerand actor.
And, while the boys were taking moving pictures of the men at workdigging the trench, to bring the river to the steamer, since the boatrefused to go to the water, Mr. Ringold questioned the captain.
"That's about how it happened," the latter said, when the manager hadasked about the accident. "I tried a short cut, and we anchored for thenight right about here. I s'posed I'd have water enough to go on in themorning, and maybe save about ten miles by this 'cut-off.' But, byGeorge! When we tried to start in the morning we found the waters goingdown, and, before we knew it, we were high and dry. I don't know aswe'll ever get afloat now."
Indeed it did look like a hopeless task, but the men were working hardto take advantage of the high water. Once the flood subsided the steamermight never be floated, until another period of unusually heavy rain setin.
"Well, I guess we've got enough of this," remarked Blake, as he took thefinal scenes at the steamer. "Now for some views in the village below."
Once more they were under way, and a little later they came in sight ofthe town, which was the principal shipping port for cotton in thatvicinity.
"Say, there's a big crowd working there!" exclaimed Joe, as they headedfor the levee, only a small part of which was out of water.
"Yes, there's a big crowd there, but look at the few who are working atthe cotton," spoke Blake. "There's a big pile of it, and it'll takethose few men a good while to move it. The water's rising fast, too."
The levee at this town was a sloping one, faced with cobble stones, andwhen the river was low, horses and wagons were driven down it to thelanding stages of the steamers. There were no permanent docks, except onthe very top of the levee, and it was there the cotton was stored.
The absence of permanent docks, or wharves, close to the water was dueto the sudden rise and fall of the stream at this point. Sometimes thesteamers could come up to the permanent wharves, at the top of thelevee. At others they were some distance off, and goods had to be moveddown the slope in wagons, to the temporary landing stages, thrown out bythe boats.
The danger to the town, should the levee give way, was so evident, thatevery available man had been called on to strengthen the sloping bank,which kept back the waters. The owners of the cotton, it seems, hadappealed in vain for help in moving their cargo back out of danger, andso they were obliged to do the work themselves. And it was no easymatter to handle the big, clumsy bales.
The motor boat was tied where it would not be in the way, and, from thebow, Joe and Blake took a series of moving pictures while Mr. Ringoldand C. C. went ashore to get some supplies, and make inquiries regardingthe missing theatrical company.
In regard to the latter, however, they received no satisfaction. Nothinghad been seen or heard of them. The telegraph line, however, was in goodworking order, and Mr. Ringold sent a message to his New York office,asking if any news had been received from the missing ones.
"We'll wait for a reply," he said. "It ought not to take many hours, andwe can easily spare the time."
"Joe," remarked Blake, when they had filmed several views of the scenesat the levee, "suppose we take the boat down stream a short distance. Iwant to get nearer to the piles of cotton, so they will show up well onthe screen."
"All rig
ht. I can work the boat, and you can manage the camera."
Mr. Ringold and the actor were up in the town, but the manager had toldthe boys they might move the boat about as they pleased in gettingpictures.
Accordingly Joe cast off the line, started the motor and headed thecraft nearer to the cotton wharf.
"Hold her there now!" cried Blake, as he took a position at the bow withthe camera.
He was grinding away at the handle, paying no attention to the boat, orriver, when suddenly a swirl of the current carried a big log directlyagainst the bow of the craft. She was being headed slowly up stream, Joeworking the motor only fast enough to maintain a slight headway.
There came a jar that shook the _Clytie_ from stem to stern.
"Look out!" yelled Joe to Blake, but the warning came too late. Theyoung moving picture operator shot overboard, into the muddy water, thecamera clattering to the deck behind him.
The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood; Or, Perilous Days on the Mississippi Page 19
