The Story of Paul Boyton Part 24
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That gentleman was very earnest in advising him not to start as he was in great danger of being seized with the fever.
"You have every indication of the fever now," said the doctor, "and if it attacks you on the water you will to a certainty die. However, if you will persist in going, all I can do is to tell you that as soon as you feel the symptoms, make for the sh.o.r.e and get into a bed as soon as you can."
"What are the symptoms?" inquired Boyton,
"You become chilly and have a numb feeling all over."
"All right, I'll look out for them," and with that Paul waved a good bye to the mult.i.tude and struck gamely away in the teeth of the wind. As night came on he was tired and imagined he could feel the symptoms of which the doctor had warned him. He was just heading for sh.o.r.e when he heard a steamboat. He burned a red light for her and she slowed up. The pa.s.sengers on deck cheered him and the Captain sang out:
"How do you feel, Paul?"
"All right, report me above," was the answer, and the boat headed on up the river. The diversion gave him courage to go ahead, and he struck out with renewed determination, running so well that he reached Baton Rouge at eight o'clock in the morning. From that city it was a home run of one hundred and thirty four miles to New Orleans. He started early next morning, though feeling very stiff and sore. The weather grew intensely hot, he suffered terribly and was burned almost black in the face, the skin of which peeled off. About eleven o'clock in the morning, on the gla.s.sy surface ahead, he noticed something bobbing up and down in a queer manner, and pulled away to investigate. He found it to be a dead mule swollen to gigantic size. While looking at it its tail flipped out of the water as though it were alive. It was then he became aware of the fact that a swarm of alligators were feeding on it, and he pulled away with about as much speed as he has ever been able to attain.
During the day he ran through a thickly populated country, along what is known as the lower coast of Louisiana; the river was fringed with rich sugar plantations, and a majority of the negroes who rowed out to see him, spoke the language of the French Creole. Magnolia trees were thick on either side and framed a picture of rare beauty.
While paddling for a short distance close in sh.o.r.e, Paul discovered a most unique and lazy style of angling. Happening to look up at the bank, he saw two pair of bare feet of heroic size, from which two fis.h.i.+ng lines hung, the corks bobbing on the surface a few yards from the sh.o.r.e. The broad bottoms of their pedal extremities turned to the river, the line pa.s.sing between the great and second toes to the water, and there they lay enjoying delicious sleep, waiting for a fish to swallow the bait, when the pull on the line would be felt between their toes and awaken them to attend to business. Paul took in the situation at a glance. Quietly drawing near one of the lines he gave it a vicious jerk.
The negro on the other end of it flipped to a sitting posture as though he was worked on a spring like a jumping jack. When he saw the black figure as he thought, on his line, he let out a shriek that could have been heard for a mile, at the same time springing to his feet and starting on a sprinting pace for some hiding place, yelling, as he ran, to his companion:
"Hyah Bill, git away from dar; git up an' cut. I'se done cotch de debbil on my hook."
The other restful fisherman sat up stiffly as if worked on a rusty hinge, and seeing Boyton, was seized with an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He laughed as though he was never going to catch his breath, and Paul was afraid he would choke. He rolled on the ground in paroxysms of mirth, stood up and leaned against a tree shouting out such loud guffaws that it was difficult to tell whether it was through amus.e.m.e.nt or fright. Paul got out on the bank and tried to quiet him, but was unsuccessful and entered the water again and paddled away. For some distance the voice of that hilarious fisherman was borne to him on the breeze.
As evening closed in he could hear the darkies who had been paid off, it being Sat.u.r.day night, singing and arguing along the sh.o.r.e. A dense fog soon enveloped everything, however, and he could not see which way he was going. He seized the roots of a drifting tree, knowing it would keep in the channel, mounted it and sat there for hours floating with the current. All night the mocking birds along sh.o.r.e serenaded him. He would have remained on the tree until morning; but he heard the whistles of steamers below. Knowing that a fleet left New Orleans every Sat.u.r.day afternoon bound north, and that each would be trying to gain the lead on the other, he was afraid he would be run down, so he slid off the tree and made for sh.o.r.e. That course was not without its danger, also; for mingled with the beautiful songs of the mocking bird, he had heard the hoa.r.s.e bark of alligators and there was no telling but that he might run right on to some of them. They are thick along sh.o.r.e, but rarely go out into the river, except as in the case of the dead mule, they follow their prey. Luckily he avoided those dangerous reptiles. He sounded the bugle and a Frenchman came down to the bank. Paul explained who he was and the man eagerly invited him ash.o.r.e. "I am sitting up with my old master who is dead," said the Frenchman. "What was the matter with him?" inquired Boyton, somewhat alarmed.
"Oh, it wasn't the fever, you need have no fear."
Paul decided to land and wait until the fleet had pa.s.sed at any rate, then he lighted his lamp and pushed off through the fog, preferring the solitude of the river to the society of the grief stricken Frenchman.
The fog lifted in the morning and he found that he was on time. Ten miles above New Orleans, he was met by excursion steamers with enthusiastic crowds aboard. Captain Leathers of the famous old boat, Natchez, was determined to outdo the others in the way of welcoming the voyager, for Boyton was an old friend. He had a cannon placed on the deck of his boat, loaded to the muzzle. A crowd of negroes were jammed on a lot of cotton bales, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Paul and Captain Leathers fired right in amongst them. The concussion was so great that at least forty of the darkies were knocked off their feet and thought they were killed by the explosion. Paul landed at New Orleans, April 27th, finis.h.i.+ng a journey of two thousand four hundred and thirty miles. He was feted and lionized in the Crescent City until he was in danger of becoming enervated, so he boarded a train for the north, some thirty pounds less in weight than when he started at Oil City.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The summer of 1879 was idly spent. Boyton visited the most celebrated watering resorts of America and enjoyed a well earned good time. As the autumn leaves began to fall, he was seized with an irresistible desire to feel himself again afloat, so he turned his attention to the rivers of the New England States. He went to Boston, made a careful study of the maps, and concluded to take a voyage on the Merrimac; this river, with its numerous falls and rapids, he thought would furnish some excitement. The start was made from Plymouth, New Hamps.h.i.+re, at six o'clock in the morning of October seventh. The river was too rough for him to tow the Baby Mine along, a fact which he very much deplored.
Boyton had not paddled many yards from the sh.o.r.e ere he found the water so shallow that he was compelled to wade quite a distance before getting fairly under way, then he soon left the cheering crowd in the distance. About nine o'clock, approaching a bridge, he heard a rumbling sound. Looking up he beheld the figure of a man and horse outlined against the sky like a shadow picture. The countryman also discovered the queer looking figure in the water. He craned his neck, jerked his arms up and with mouth and eyes wide open slapped the reins on the horse's back and galloped off at a faster pace than the good agriculturalists in that locality are wont to ride. He had not read the newspapers.
An hour later, Paul blew his bugle in front of a farm house that stood near the river. The people ran to the water's edge and began firing a broadside of down east interrogatives with such rapidity as to nearly swamp him.
"Ain't yeou nearly drowned?" "Ain't yeou afeard yeou will be?" "Ain't yeou hungry?" "Ain't yeou cold?" "Ain't yeou hot?" "Kin yeou keep awake?" "Ef yeou cain't, would yeou sink?" "Air yeou a orphing?", "Dew yeou like the water?" "What circuse dew yeou belong tew?" "Who hired yeou tew dew this?" "Why on airth dew yeou travel this way fur instead of in a boat?"
Paul could not stand the rapid fire system of the New Hamps.h.i.+re rustics, and with a pained expression on his face he, pulled silently out of hearing. The narrowing river brought him closer to the banks, and as he was forging ahead an old gentleman hailed him. Paul stopped for a moment and was sorry for it, as the man tried to chill his blood with doleful stories of the dangers in the river below. "Yeou air goin'
straight ahead tew destruction," he bellowed, "thar's a whirlpool jist ahead, where six lumbermen was drowned one time."
Boyton had no fear of sharing the fate of the lumbermen, so he pushed ahead, leaving the old man standing on the bank with clasped hands and pained expression.
The voyager shortly reached the junction of Squam river, and there encountered the first waterfall. A crowd of men and boys had a.s.sembled on the bridge and anxiously watched him dash down on the rus.h.i.+ng waters, in which he was for the moment lost. Emerging from the boiling foam at the foot of the fall, he scrambled on a rock and stood up to look for the channel. From that point he had a wearisome pull in dead, choppy water, until he reached New Hampton. At many places along the route, well disposed persons were liberal with their advice to give up such an "outlandish" mode of traveling and to "git on land like a human critter." Though the advice sounded well, Paul noticed on one occasion at least, that their methods of travel were not devoid of the danger ascribed to his. Above him, on the grim rocks of a bluff, he saw the wreck of a light wagon, and floating along with the current, were the seat and one wheel.
"Where is the driver of that wagon?" inquired Paul. No one knew and he plied his paddle vigorously in the hope of overtaking the unfortunate man who had evidently been hurled from the bluff into the stream; but no trace could be found. Below the sound of rapids was borne to his ear.
The smooth water began to break and start as if suddenly impelled forward by some subtle influence that meant to tear the rocks from the bed and crush every obstacle in its course. With all his care in steering through that rapid, he was thrown against a rock with considerable force, but caught hold of it and stood up to determine the course of the channel. Seeing an old lady standing before the door of a farm house, he rang out a cavalry charge on his bugle. She threw up her hands as though she had heard the last trumpet of the Day of Judgment, and rus.h.i.+ng into the house she alarmed all the occupants. The look of horror they gave the Captain as he stood on that rock in the midst of the rapids, beckoning to them with his paddle, was evidence that they took him for his Satanic majesty or one of his courtiers.
"Lan' sakes, 'Zekiel!" exclaimed the boldest one or the party, who chanced to be a tall, raw-boned female, "go git gran'pap's old blunderbuss, an' shoot it."
Zekiel was rooted to the spot with fear and heeded not the exhortation of his strong-minded relative. Boyton, who feared the people who did not keep posted by reading the papers, more than he did the rapids, relieved them by taking to the water, and was flashed from their sight as he was drawn into another and larger rapid. He was whirled into a place where he had a hard struggle over a bed of round, slippery rocks in shallow water. He could not find the channel, and if he stood up to take an observation, his feet would be swept from under him. He was fully an hour getting over the rocks, walking, crawling or paddling as best he could. At five o'clock he reached Bristol. There he was advised to go no further and a telegram from his agent below, told him the river was too dangerous to travel at night. The next morning the landlord's daughter drove him to the bank and a large crowd watched as he paddled away toward the whirlpool, against which he had been warned.
It was a rough pa.s.sage, but he reached Franklin in safety at one o'clock. All the way he had kept a sharp lookout for the driver of the wrecked wagon, but could discover no trace of him. Before reaching Franklin a fleet of boats rowed up to the falls to meet him, and bonfires were built along the sh.o.r.e in his honor.
The voyage was resumed at eight o'clock next morning, and at ten o'clock he shot Sewell's Falls, a rather rough place, and from there the river was lonely until West Concord was reached. Here the booming of cannon announced his safe arrival to the people. He was met by a fleet of boats and informed that they had been looking for him two days. He was warned to look out for Turkey Falls, and before proceeding he asked a countryman which side of the falls he should take, and received the cheering answer that, "whichever side he took he would wish he had taken the other." Both banks of the falls were lined with people, Paul always noticed a larger crowd at every point where he was likely to be killed. He went over Turkey Falls, and for a few seconds was lost to sight. The spectators waited in breathless silence to see his lifeless form rise from the foam, but beheld only the flas.h.i.+ng paddle moving gaily along in smoother water, and so a hero was not lost at that uneventful spot, and there would be no legend of the place to hand down to posterity.
One mile from the falls, the Captain encountered the first dam, below which there was a stretch of dead water for seven miles. It was there he met the first steam craft--a small launch that had sailed up from Suncook. It was a long, tiresome pull through the dead stretch, and he arrived at Suncook at dark pretty well f.a.gged out. Invitations to remain were plentiful; but he continued two miles further to Hookset where dry clothing awaited him. Next morning an early start was made and he was able to have the Baby Mine with him for the rest of the journey.
The water from Hookset to Manchester is heavy; but by constant paddling he reached the latter place at noon. There were more signs of life as he progressed. Children ran along the banks calling to him, and one little girl cried: "Paul, come in here I want see you," as though she had known him for years. He pa.s.sed two of the five falls that barred the progress to Nashua, when darkness fell with such intensity that he was compelled to depend on sh.o.r.e sounds to determine in which direction he was going. At eight o'clock, seeing lights on sh.o.r.e, he summoned some people with a blast on the bugle and inquired the distance to the next falls. As was the case above, he had to listen to diverse and widely different opinions, with the usual result, that he took his own course, and succeeded in reaching Nashua in safety at ten o'clock. The next day dawned dull and rainy and he had a tiresome pull on a sluggish stream until he reached Tyngsborough. Nearing a crowded bridge at that place, volleys of questions were fired at him. He was choking with thirst and without looking up, asked: "Is there a hotel here?"
"Naw," shouted a gruff voice, "ner yeou kaint git naw liker hure nowhere neether."
"I'll take an oath that you never colored that nose of yours with river water," quickly replied Boyton.
The retort happily hit the mark, for the fellow was the possessor of a richly tinted proboscis of carmine hue, that was somewhat of a landmark in the village. The crowd roared in approbation of the home thrust and the man, hastily elbowed his way through the crowd until he was beyond hearing.
A number of small boats ascended the river from Lowell to meet Paul, and he accepted an invitation from the Vesper Boat Club, of that city, to land at their club house, which he did at five o'clock. He remained over Sunday in Lowell and resumed the journey Monday morning. He shot Hunt's falls in safety and there met a steam launch with newspaper men from Lawrence, aboard. At Lawrence the river begins to be affected by the tide, on account of which he was compelled to wait until four o'clock next morning before continuing the trip. He made a landing at daylight at a frame house over the door of which was painted the word "confectionery" and he thought he could get some breakfast. He was given a room, but it was soon filled with obtrusive questioners. A farmer, seeing the look of hunger in his eyes, volunteered to procure some breakfast. The Captain was prepared to do justice to the kind of a meal he had been wis.h.i.+ng for, when the farmer returned with a genuine country breakfast consisting of several pieces of apple and mince pie and a liberal supply of a.s.sorted pickles. It was fortunate for Boyton's digestion that he was obliged to stay at that place for five hours, owing to the flood tide.
Directly after resuming the voyage, he was met by a fleet of boats, one of them being occupied by Sir Edward Thornton, the British Minister at Was.h.i.+ngton, and his beautiful daughter. Being old acquaintances, Paul enjoyed a pleasant chat with them, and a few moments later, he landed at Newburyport. The voyage was ended. He had made two hundred miles of very rough going, in seven days.
Boyton rested but a short time ere he was ready to begin a run down the Connecticut, the largest and most beautiful river in New England, from as near the headwaters as he could get, to Long Island Sound. His arrival at Stratford, New Hamps.h.i.+re, from which place he had decided to start, occasioned a great deal of comment in that and neighboring villages. The inhabitants concluded he should have more than ordinary recognition, and in lieu of a cannon they put a pair of anvils together and succeeded in making quite a respectable noise. At night a deputation of citizens called on him with a request that he would not start until daylight next morning, so they would have an opportunity to see him off. At six forty-five o'clock the following morning, a goodly sized company was present to witness the start.
After pa.s.sing the railroad bridge at Coos, he had about six miles of rapids, the river being only about forty yards wide and rather speedy, the voyager averaging about five miles an hour. At eleven o'clock he pa.s.sed Stratford Hollow and inquired of a countryman there how far it was to Northumberland:
"Seven mile b' road an' twenty-b' river, b' gosh," was the native's reply.
Though laconic, the answer was correct, for the stream bowed and bended frequently, and at one time he pa.s.sed the same farm house twice in an interval of two hours and a half, giving him an opportunity to observe both sides of it. About two o'clock in the afternoon a heavy rainstorm blew up, while the booms and logs in the river also caused a great deal of trouble. Whenever a person on the bank could speak to him he was invariably warned of the Fifteen Mile Falls.
"Look Bout, straanger, fur them 'ere Fifteen Mile Falls. They'll jus'
squeeze yeou sure'n daylight," was almost always the style of warning.
Paul hauled up to question one man who looked like a waterman, concerning the falls. The fellow said he had gone over once on a raft, when the water was much higher. "An' would yeou b'lieve it," he added, "one o' them 'ere wimmen were boun' an' determined tew come wuth us."
"Did she go?" asked Paul.
"Neow yeou jus' bet she did."
"Well, how did she act?"
"I'll tell yeou straanger. I tol' her tew go astern an' hol' on hard tew th' stake. She went aft ju' afore we got tew Holbrook's Bar, an' then we jus' tuk it. Slap, bang we went, jus' run pitch right under thet 'ere rus.h.i.+n' water'n come up b'low all right."
"What did the woman do? How did she act?"
"Wall, sir, yeou wuden't b'lieve it. She jus' guv one loud snort, shuk herself out'n went right erlong."
The loss of his paddle caused Paul to remain at Northumberland all night, and fortunately it was found among a lot of driftwood next morning, enabling him to drive ahead again.
One of the drawbacks of the voyage was the difficulty experienced in getting proper provisions at many places. Numbers of people were either thoughtless, or they looked on Boyton as an uncanny sort of creature, whom they did not care to have about. When he did get food, it consisted of pie, which seemed to be the staff of life with most of the country people. He inquired of a voluble fellow where he could be best accommodated at Northumberland.
The Story of Paul Boyton Part 24
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