Arrangements were made for sleeping but as I was a new man 
and had no bed each one of the crew divided their blankets with me 
until I really had the best blanket roll. I asked Old Ben where I 
should sleep and he answered, “Why, Hell, just go in the cabin and 
make down your bed on the floor.” 
Of course Ben knew by this time this was my first raft work 
but he was too good a judge of human nature to class me as a tender¬ 
foot. I spread my blankets on the floor and the minute I hit them 
I was asleep and slept soundly as I was very tired after having walked 
all day and night, but the next morning I was as fresh as ever again. 
Pretty soon Old Ben came over to me and said, “AVhat have you been 
following for a livin’, young man?” I replied, “Working.” He said. 
“I didn’t know but you had been a dancing teacher; you were calling 
out figures all night, swing corners and balance all; then again you 
were hoopin’ to dogs as though you were huntin’ coon.” Everybody 
laughed but I said nothing as I knew I often talked in my sleep. 
Breakfast was soon announced and we started for the eats. Old 
Ben said, “Hold on, boys, we will have an eye-opener.” He drew out 
a three gallon demijohn from under the table and told us to help our¬ 
selves, which of course we did, not being too careful how much we 
poured into our teacups. 
After breakfast we all returned to our respective rafts. Old Ben 
released his first and the other two crews did likewise, and soon we 
were again drifting down the river. All day we drifted with very 
little work to do. There was one pretty fair fiddler and one banjo 
picker in the crowd, and as it was such a wonderful day, the boys got 
out their instruments and began to play. One of the shitepokes 
walked out on the rough boards, which were about a foot wide, and 
began to dance. We watched him awhile and pretty soon the fiddler 
stopped to tune up his fiddle. He looked up at me as if to see me 
for the first time, and said, “You man that calls figures all nite, get 
out and face Tom and let’s see what youse can do.” I readily agreed 
as I was anxious to have the boys know I was the real stuff. “What 
do you want me to play?” the fiddler asked. I told him “Fishing 
Creek Hornpipe” and “Devil’s Dream.” 
The music started and Tom and I broke away like two quarter 
horses from the poles. They played for about fifteen minutes, in 
which time I had cut the pigeon wing, bucked, jumped, back stepped, 
jigged, clogged and many other steps that had no names which I had 
learned from the negroes. The entire crew pulled off their hats and 
cheered and from that time on I was one of the boys and the entire 
crew took pleasure in instructing me as to how to work on log rafts. 
If I remember correctly, it took us six days to float the logs to 
Paduka; anyway Ben Butler paid me $9.00 for my work. After we 
were all paid off Old Ben said, “Now, boys, let’s all have a drink,” 
and we hit for a saloon where he ordered drinks for the bunch, calling 
on each man for a toast, which we gave—but they varied so much I 
will not repeat them. 
After this we all shook hands and parted. I found out there 
— 24 — 
