The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer's Comrade)

by Mark Twain

  CHAPTER XVI

  We slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behinda monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession. Shehad four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many asthirty men, likely. She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, andan open camp-fire in the middle, and a tall flag-pole at each end.There was a power of style about her. It _amounted_ to something beinga raftsman on such a craft as that.

  We went drifting down into a big bend, and the night clouded up andgot hot. The river was very wide, and was walled with solid timber onboth sides; you couldn't see a break in it hardly ever, or a light. Wetalked about Cairo, and wondered whether we would know it when we gotto it. I said likely we wouldn't, because I had heard say there warn'tbut about a dozen houses there, and if they didn't happen to have themlit up, how was we going to know we was passing a town? Jim said ifthe two big rivers joined together there, that would show. But I saidmaybe we might think we was passing the foot of an island and cominginto the same old river again. That disturbed Jim--and me too. So thequestion was, what to do? I said, paddle ashore the first time a lightshowed, and tell them pap was behind, coming along with atrading-scow, and was a green hand at the business, and wanted to knowhow far it was to Cairo. Jim thought it was a good idea, so we took asmoke on it and waited.

  There warn't nothing to do now but to look out sharp for the town, andnot pass it without seeing it. He said he'd be mighty sure to see it,because he'd be a free man the minute he seen it, but if he missed ithe'd be in a slave country again and no more show for freedom. Everylittle while he jumps up and says:

  "Dah she is?"

  But it warn't. It was Jack-o'-lanterns, or lightning-bugs; so he setdown again, and went to watching, same as before. Jim said it made himall over trembly and feverish to be so close to freedom. Well, I cantell you it made me all over trembly and feverish, too, to hear him,because I begun to get it through my head that he _was_ most free--andwho was to blame for it? Why, _me_. I couldn't get that out of myconscience, no how nor no way. It got to troubling me so I couldn'trest; I couldn't stay still in one place. It hadn't ever come home tome before, what this thing was that I was doing. But now it did; andit stayed with me, and scorched me more and more. I tried to make outto myself that _I_ warn't to blame, because _I_ didn't run Jim offfrom his rightful owner; but it warn't no use, conscience up and says,every time, "But you knowed he was running for his freedom, and youcould 'a' paddled ashore and told somebody." That was so--I couldn'tget around that no way. That was where it pinched. Conscience says tome, "What had poor Miss Watson done to you that you could see hernigger go off right under your eyes and never say one single word?What did that poor old woman do to you that you could treat her somean? Why, she tried to learn you your book, she tried to learn youyour manners, she tried to be good to you every way she knowed how._That's_ what she done."

  I got to feeling so mean and so miserable I most wished I was dead. Ifidgeted up and down the raft, abusing myself to myself, and Jim wasfidgeting up and down past me. We neither of us could keep still.Every time he danced around and says, "Dah's Cairo!" it went throughme like a shot, and I thought if it _was_ Cairo I reckoned I would dieof miserableness.

  Jim talked out loud all the time while I was talking to myself. He wassaying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free state hewould go to saving up money and never spend a single cent, and when hegot enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close towhere Miss Watson lived; and then they would both work to buy the twochildren, and if their master wouldn't sell them, they'd get anAb'litionist to go and steal them.

  It most froze me to hear such talk. He wouldn't ever dared to talksuch talk in his life before. Just see what a difference it made inhim the minute he judged he was about free. It was according to theold saying, "Give a nigger an inch and he'll take an ell." Thinks I,this is what comes of my not thinking. Here was this nigger, which Ihad as good as helped to run away, coming right out flat-footed andsaying he would steal his children--children that belonged to a man Ididn't even know; a man that hadn't ever done me no harm.

  I was sorry to hear Jim say that, it was such a lowering of him. Myconscience got to stirring me up hotter than ever, until at last Isays to it, "Let up on me--it ain't too late yet--I'll paddle ashoreat the first light and tell." I felt easy and happy and light as afeather right off. All my troubles was gone. I went to looking outsharp for a light, and sort of singing to myself. By and by oneshowed. Jim sings out:

  "We's safe, Huck, we's safe! Jump up and crack yo' heels! Dat's degood ole Cairo at las', I jis knows it!"

  I says:

  "I'll take the canoe and go and see, Jim. It mightn't be, you know."

  He jumped and got the canoe ready, and put his old coat in the bottomfor me to set on, and give me the paddle; and as I shoved off, hesays:

  "Pooty soon I'll be a-shout'n' for joy, en I'll say, it's all onaccounts o' Huck; I's a free man, en I couldn't ever ben free ef ithadn' ben for Huck; Huck done it. Jim won't ever forgit you, Huck;you's de bes' fren' Jim's ever had; en you's de _only_ fren' ole Jim'sgot now."

  I was paddling off, all in a sweat to tell on him; but when he saysthis, it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. I went alongslow then, and I warn't right down certain whether I was glad Istarted or whether I warn't. When I was fifty yards off, Jim says:

  "Dah you goes, de ole true Huck; de on'y white genlman dat ever kep'his promise to ole Jim."

  Well, I just felt sick. But I says, I _got_ to do it--I can't get_out_ of it. Right then along comes a skiff with two men in it withguns, and they stopped and I stopped. One of them says:

  "What's that yonder?"

  "A piece of a raft," I says.

  "Do you belong on it?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Any men on it?"

  "Only one, sir."

  "Well, there's five niggers run off to-night up yonder, above the headof the bend. Is your man white or black?"

  I didn't answer up prompt. I tried to, but the words wouldn't come. Itried for a second or two to brace up and out with it, but I warn'tman enough--hadn't the spunk of a rabbit. I see I was weakening; so Ijust give up trying, and up and says:

  "He's white."

  "I reckon we'll go and see for ourselves."

  "I wish you would," says I, "because it's pap that's there, and maybeyou'd help me tow the raft ashore where the light is. He's sick--andso is mam and Mary Ann."

  "Oh, the devil! we're in a hurry, boy. But I s'pose we've got to.Come, buckle to your paddle, and let's get along."

  I buckled to my paddle and they laid to their oars. When we had made astroke or two, I says:

  "Pap 'll be mighty much obleeged to you, I can tell you. Everybodygoes away when I want them to help me tow the raft ashore, and I can'tdo it by myself."

  "Well, that's infernal mean. Odd, too. Say, boy, what's the matterwith your father?"

  "It's the--a--the--well, it ain't anything much."

  They stopped pulling. It warn't but a mighty little ways to the raftnow. One says:

  "Boy, that's a lie. What _is_ the matter with your pap? Answer upsquare now, and it 'll be the better for you."

  "I will, sir, I will, honest--but don't leave us, please. It'sthe--the--Gentlemen, if you'll only pull ahead, and let me heave youthe headline, you won't have to come a-near the raft--please do."

  "Set her back, John, set her back!" says one. They backed water. "Keepaway, boy--keep to looard. Confound it, I just expect the wind hasblowed it to us. Your pap's got the smallpox, and you know it preciouswell. Why didn't you come out and say so? Do you want to spread it allover?"

  "Well," says I, a-blubbering, "I've told everybody before, and theyjust went away and left us."

  "Poor devil, there's something in that. We are right down sorry foryou, but we--well, hang it, we don't want the smallpox, you see. Lookhere, I'll tell you what to do. Don't you try to land by yourself, oryou'll smash everything to pieces.
You float along down about twentymiles, and you'll come to a town on the left-hand side of the river.It will be long after sun-up then, and when you ask for help you tellthem your folks are all down with chills and fever. Don't be a foolagain, and let people guess what is the matter. Now we're trying to doyou a kindness; so you just put twenty miles between us, that's a goodboy. It wouldn't do any good to land yonder where the light is--it'sonly a wood-yard. Say, I reckon your father's poor, and I'm bound tosay he's in pretty hard luck. Here, I'll put a twenty-dollar goldpiece on this board, and you get it when it floats by. I feel mightymean to leave you; but my kingdom! it won't do to fool with small-pox,don't you see?"

  "Hold on, Parker," says the man, "here's a twenty to put on the boardfor me. Good-by, boy; you do as Mr. Parker told you, and you'll be allright."

  "That's so, my boy--good-by, good-bye. If you see any runaway niggersyou get help and nab them, and you can make some money by it."

  "Good-by, sir," says I; "I won't let no runaway niggers get by me if Ican help it."

  They went off and I got aboard the raft, feeling bad and low, becauseI knowed very well I had done wrong, and I see it warn't no use for meto try to learn to do right; a body that don't get _started_ rightwhen he's little ain't got no show--when the pinch comes there ain'tnothing to back him up and keep him to his work, and so he gets beat.Then I thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on; s'pose you'd 'a'done right and give Jim up, would you felt better than what you donow? No, says I, I'd feel bad--I'd feel just the same way I do now.Well, then, says I, what's the use you learning to do right when it'stroublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and thewages is just the same? I was stuck. I couldn't answer that. So Ireckoned I wouldn't bother no more about it, but after this always dowhichever come handiest at the time.

  I went into the wigwam; Jim warn't there. I looked all around; hewarn't anywhere. I says:

  "Jim!"

  "Here I is, Huck. Is dey out o' sight yit? Don't talk loud."

  He was in the river under the stern oar, with just his nose out. Itold him they were out of sight, so he come aboard. He says:

  "I was a-listenin' to all de talk, en I slips into de river en wasgwyne to shove for sho' if dey come aboard. Den I was gwyne to swim tode raf' agin when dey was gone. But lawsy, how you did fool 'em, Huck!Dat _wuz_ de smartes' dodge! I tell you, chile, I 'spec it save' oleJim--ole Jim ain't going to forgit you for dat, honey."

  Then we talked about the money. It was a pretty good raise--twentydollars apiece. Jim said we could take deck passage on a steamboatnow, and the money would last us as far as we wanted to go in the freestates. He said twenty mile more warn't far for the raft to go, but hewished we was already there.

  Towards daybreak we tied up, and Jim was mighty particular abouthiding the raft good. Then he worked all day fixing things in bundles,and getting all ready to quit rafting.

  That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town awaydown in a left-hand bend.

  I went off in the canoe to ask about it. Pretty soon I found a man outin the river with a skiff, setting a trot-line. I ranged up and says:

  "Mister, is that town Cairo?"

  "Cairo? no. You must be a blame' fool."

  "What town is it, mister?"

  "If you want to know, go and find out. If you stay here botherin'around me for about a half a minute longer you'll get something youwon't want."

  I paddled to the raft. Jim was awful disappointed, but I said nevermind, Cairo would be the next place, I reckoned.

  We passed another town before daylight, and I was going out again; butit was high ground, so I didn't go. No high ground about Cairo, Jimsaid. I had forgot it. We laid up for the day on a towhead tolerableclose to the left-hand bank. I begun to suspicion something. So didJim. I says:

  "Maybe we went by Cairo in the fog that night."

  He says:

  "Doan' le's talk about it, Huck. Po' niggers can't have no luck. Iawluz 'spected dat rattlesnake-skin warn't done wid its work."

  "I wish I'd never seen that snake-skin, Jim--I do wish I'd never laideyes on it."

  "It ain't yo' fault, Huck; you didn't know. Don't you blame yo'self'bout it."

  When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sureenough, and outside was the old regular Muddy! So it was all up withCairo.

  We talked it all over. It wouldn't do to take to the shore; wecouldn't take the raft up the stream, of course. There warn't no waybut to wait for dark, and start back in the canoe and take thechances. So we slept all day amongst the cottonwood thicket, so as tobe fresh for the work, and when we went back to the raft about darkthe canoe was gone!

  We didn't say a word for a good while. There warn't anything to say.We both knowed well enough it was some more work of therattlesnake-skin; so what was the use to talk about it? It would onlylook like we was finding fault, and that would be bound to fetch morebad luck--and keep on fetching it, too, till we knowed enough to keepstill.

  By and by we talked about what we better do, and found there warn't noway but just to go along down with the raft till we got a chance tobuy a canoe to go back in. We warn't going to borrow it when therewarn't anybody around, the way pap would do, for that might set peopleafter us.

  So we shoved out after dark on the raft.

  Anybody that don't believe yet that it's foolishness to handle asnake-skin, after all that that snake-skin done for us, will believeit now if they read on and see what more it done for us.

  The place to buy canoes is off of rafts laying up at shore. But wedidn't see no rafts laying up; so we went along during three hours andmore. Well, the night got gray and ruther thick, which is the nextmeanest thing to fog. You can't tell the shape of the river, and youcan't see no distance. It got to be very late and still, and thenalong comes a steamboat up the river. We lit the lantern, and judgedshe would see it. Up-stream boats didn't generly come close to us;they go out and follow the bars and hunt for easy water under thereefs; but nights like this they bull right up the channel against thewhole river.

  We could hear her pounding along, but we didn't see her good till shewas close. She aimed right for us. Often they do that and try to seehow close they can come without touching; sometimes the wheel bitesoff a sweep, and then the pilot sticks his head out and laughs, andthinks he's mighty smart. Well, here she comes, and we said she wasgoing to try and shave us; but she didn't seem to be sheering off abit. She was a big one, and she was coming in a hurry, too, lookinglike a black cloud with rows of glow-worms around it; but all of asudden she bulged out, big and scary, with a long row of wide-openfurnace doors shining like red-hot teeth, and her monstrous bows andguards hanging right over us. There was a yell at us, and a jinglingof bells to stop the engines, a powwow of cussing, and whistling ofsteam--and as Jim went overboard on one side and I on the other, shecome smashing straight through the raft.

  I dived--and I aimed to find the bottom, too, for a thirty-foot wheelhad got to go over me, and I wanted it to have plenty of room. I couldalways stay under water a minute; this time I reckon I stayed under aminute and a half. Then I bounced for the top in a hurry, for I wasnearly busting. I popped out to my armpits and blowed the water out ofmy nose, and puffed a bit. Of course there was a booming current; andof course that boat started her engines again ten seconds after shestopped them, for they never cared much for raftsmen; so now she waschurning along up the river, out of sight in the thick weather, thoughI could hear her.

  I sung out for Jim about a dozen times, but I didn't get any answer;so I grabbed a plank that touched me while I was "treading water," andstruck out for shore, shoving it ahead of me. But I made out to seethat the drift of the current was towards the left-hand shore, whichmeant that I was in a crossing; so I changed off and went that way.

  It was one of these long, slanting, two-mile crossings; so I was agood long time in getting over. I made a safe landing, and clumb upthe bank. I couldn't see but a little ways, but I went poking alongover rough ground for a quarte
r of a mile or more, and then I runacross a big old-fashioned double log house before I noticed it. I wasgoing to rush by and get away, but a lot of dogs jumped out and wentto howling and barking at me, and I knowed better than to move anotherpeg.