by W. W. Jacobs
SOL SMITH
A BULLY BOAT AND A BRAG CAPTAIN
A STORY OF STEAMBOAT LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI
Does any one remember the _Caravan_? She was what would now beconsidered a slow boat--_then_ (1827) she was regularly advertised asthe "fast running," etc. Her regular trips from New Orleans to Natchezwere usually made in from six to eight days; a trip made by her in fivedays was considered remarkable. A voyage from New Orleans to Vicksburgand back, including stoppages, generally entitled the officers and crewto a month's wages. Whether the _Caravan_ ever achieved the feat of avoyage to the Falls (Louisville) I have never learned; if she did, shemust have "had a _time_ of it!"
It was my fate to take passage in this boat. The Captain was agood-natured, easy-going man, careful of the comfort of his passengers,and exceedingly fond of the _game of brag_. We had been out a littlemore than five days, and we were in hopes of seeing the bluffs ofNatchez on the next day. Our wood was getting low, and night coming on.The pilot on duty _above_ (the other pilot held three aces at the time,and was just calling out the Captain, who "went it strong" on threekings) sent down word that the mate had reported the stock of woodreduced to half a cord. The worthy Captain excused himself to the pilotwhose watch was _below_ and the two passengers who made up the party,and hurried to the deck, where he soon discovered by the landmarks thatwe were about half a mile from a woodyard, which he said was situated"right round yonder point." "But," muttered the Captain, "I don't muchlike to take wood of the yellow-faced old scoundrel who owns it--healways charges a quarter of a dollar more than any one else; however,there's no other chance." The boat was pushed to her utmost, and in alittle less than an hour, when our fuel was about giving out, we madethe point, and our cables were out and fastened to trees alongside of agood-sized woodpile.
"Hallo, Colonel! How d'ye sell your wood _this_ time?"
A yellow-faced old gentleman, with a two-weeks' beard, strings overhis shoulders holding up to his armpits a pair of copperas-coloredlinsey-woolsey pants, the legs of which reached a very little below theknee; shoes without stockings; a faded, broad-brimmed hat, which hadonce been black, and a pipe in his mouth--casting a glance at the emptyguards of our boat and uttering a grunt as he rose from fastening our"spring line," answered:
"Why, Capting, we must charge you _three and a quarter_ THIS _time_."
"The d----l!" replied the Captain--(captains did swear a little inthose days); "what's the odd _quarter_ for, I should like to know? Youonly charged me _three_ as I went down."
"Why, Capting," drawled out the wood merchant, with a sort of leer onhis yellow countenance, which clearly indicated that his wood was asgood as sold, "wood's riz since you went down two weeks ago; besides,you are awar that you very seldom stop going _down_--when you're going_up_ you're sometimes obleeged to give me a call, becaze the current'saginst you, and there's no other woodyard for nine miles ahead: and ifyou happen to be nearly out of fooel, why----"
"Well, well," interrupted the Captain, "we'll take a few cords, underthe circumstances," and he returned to his game of brag.
In about half an hour we felt the _Caravan_ commence paddling again.Supper was over, and I retired to my upper berth, situated alongsideand overlooking the brag-table, where the Captain was deeply engaged,having now the _other_ pilot as his principal opponent. We jogged onquietly--and seemed to be going at a good rate.
"How does that wood burn?" inquired the Captain of the mate, who waslooking on at the game.
"'Tisn't of much account, I reckon," answered the mate; "it'scotton-wood, and most of it green at that."
"Well, Thompson--(Three aces, again, stranger--I'll take that X and thesmall change, if you please. It's your deal)--Thompson, I say, we'dbetter take three or four cords at the next woodyard--it can't be morethan six miles from here--(Two aces and a bragger, with the age! Handover those V's)."
The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o'clock it wasreported to the Captain that we were nearing the woodyard, the lightbeing distinctly seen by the pilot on duty.
"Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords if it's good--see toit, Thompson; I can't very well leave the game now--it's getting rightwarm! This pilot's beating us all to smash."
The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhatvexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at thelast woodyard--_three and a quarter;_ but soon again became interestedin the game.
From my upper berth (there were no state-rooms _then_) I couldobserve the movements of the players. All the contention appeared tobe between the Captain and the pilots (the latter personages took itturn and turn about, steering and playing brag), _one_ of them almostinvariably winning, while the two passengers merely went through theceremony of dealing, cutting, and paying up their "anties." They wereanxious to _learn the game_--and they _did_ learn it! Once in awhile,indeed, seeing they had two aces and a bragger, they would venture abet of five or ten dollars, but they were always compelled to backout before the tremendous bragging of the Captain or pilot--or if theydid venture to "call out" on "two bullits and a bragger," they had themortification to find one of the officers had the same kind of a hand,and were _more venerable_! Still, with all these disadvantages, theycontinued playing--they wanted to learn the game.
At two o'clock the Captain asked the mate how we were getting on.
"Oh, pretty glibly, sir," replied the mate; "we can scarcely tell whatheadway we _are_ making, for we are obliged to keep the middle of theriver, and there is the shadow of a fog rising. This wood seems ratherbetter than that we took in at Yellow-Face's, but we're nearly outagain, and must be looking out for more. I saw a light just ahead onthe right--shall we hail?"
"Yes, yes," replied the Captain; "ring the bell and ask 'em what's theprice of wood up here. (I've got you again; here's double kings.)"
I heard the bell and the pilot's hail, "What's _your_ price for wood?"
A youthful voice on the shore answered, "Three _and_ a quarter!"
"D----net!" ejaculated the Captain, who had just lost the price oftwo cords to the pilot--the strangers suffering _some_ at the sametime--"three and a quarter again! Are we _never_ to get to a cheapercountry? (Deal, sir, if you please; better luck next time.)"
The other pilot's voice was again heard on deck--
"How much _have_ you?"
"Only about ten cords, sir," was the reply of the youthful salesman.
The Captain here told Thompson to take six cords, which would last tilldaylight--and again turned his attention to the game.
The pilots here changed places. _When did they sleep?_
Wood taken in, the _Caravan_ again took her place in the middle of thestream, paddling on as usual.
Day at length dawned. The brag-party broke up and settlements werebeing made, during which operations the Captain's bragging propensitieswere exercised in cracking up the speed of his boat, which, by hisreckoning, must have made at least sixty miles, and _would_ have mademany more if he could have procured good wood. It appears the twopassengers, in their first lesson, had incidentally lost one hundredand twenty dollars. The Captain, as he rose to see about taking in some_good_ wood, which he felt sure of obtaining now that he had got abovethe level country, winked at his opponent, the pilot, with whom he hadbeen on very bad terms during the progress of the game, and said, in anundertone, "Forty apiece for you and I and James" [the other pilot] "isnot bad for one night."
I had risen and went out with the Captain, to enjoy a view of thebluffs. There was just fog enough to prevent the vision taking in morethan sixty yards--so I was disappointed in _my_ expectation. We werenearing the shore for the purpose of looking for wood, the banks beinginvisible from the middle of the river.
"There it is!" exclaimed the Captain; "stop her!" Ding--ding--ding!went the big bell, and the Captain hailed:
"Hallo! the woodyard!"
"Hallo yourself!" answered a squeaking female voice, which came from awoman, with a petticoat over he
r shoulders in place of a shawl.
"What's the price of wood?"
"I think you ought to know the price by this time," answered the oldlady in the petticoat; "it's three and a qua-a-rter! and now you knowit."
"Three and the d----l!" broke in the Captain. "What, have you raised on_your_ wood, too? I'll give you _three_, and not a cent more."
"Well," replied the petticoat, "here comes the old man--_he'll_ talk toyou."
And, sure enough, out crept from the cottage the veritable faded hat,copperas-colored pants, yellow countenance and two-weeks' beard we hadseen the night before, and the same voice we had heard regulating theprice of cotton-wood squeaked out the following sentence, accompaniedby the same leer of the same yellow countenance:
"Why, darn it all, Capting, there is but three or four cords left,and _since it's you_, I don't care if I _do_ let you have it for_three_--_as you're a good customer_!"
After a quick glance at the landmarks around, the Captain bolted, andturned in to take some rest.
The fact became apparent--the reader will probably have discoveredit some time since--that _we had been wooding all night at the samewoodyard_!
