FOREST AND STREAM 
15 
“Hold on to that boat, Joe, it is slipping; keep 
your sermons for some other time,” said Sam. 
“Dick, it will be 11 o’clock 'by the time we 
get the boats launched and loaded. What say 
you if we have dinner on the bank right under 
those trees, and while Joe is getting it ready we 
will launch the boats and have all in ship shape 
for the start.” 
This arrangement was carried out. Joe soon 
had hot coffee, flapjacks and bacon. 
The batteau had been put in the water; loaded 
and made fast to the bank. The shooting boat 
was then launched. I held the rope, and in look¬ 
ing 'for a place to tie the boat I went near the 
edge of the bank, and at that moment the boat 
gave a tug, that caused me to lose my balance 
and I dropped into ten feet df ice cold water. 
Sam was near enough to reach me, and while 
pulling me out, begged me to hang on to the 
rope— 
I did—This was accident number one, for this 
camp hunt. Of course, I was obliged to change 
all my clothes, and was soon in dry, warm gar¬ 
ments. 
By 12 o’clock we were prepared to run the 
rapids and dangerous Horse Creek. Sam, with 
Joe in the shooting boat, well loaded, started 
two hundred yards in advance. Then Alex and 
I in the heavily ladened batteau, swirled away 
from the bank and instantly found ourselves 
doing battle with a powerful current of water, 
and sharp points of land armed with fallen tree 
tops, snags and partially submerged stumps and 
logs. It was very exciting and the pace fast. 
Each man armed with a paddle placed one at 
the bow and one at the stern. As the craft would 
sweep around one point the next on the oppo¬ 
site bank would appear. Skill and coolness were 
necessary to successfully run these points, to say 
nothing of the hidden dangers in the way of 
stumps and snags a few inches under water. The 
banks on either side are for most part too high, 
offering but few places to land and rest. Such 
an attempt, anyway, would be hazardous. 
The distance had been two-thirds run and I 
began to congratulate myself that we would get 
through safely, when rushing around a particu¬ 
larly dangerous point we saw a fallen tree pro¬ 
jecting nearly half way across the stream and 
only about three feet or so above the surface. I 
struck my paddle in the water to go around the 
tree and Alex at the stern paddled to go under 
it. In an instant we found our mutual mistake. 
I had only time to dodge the branches as the 
batteau swung by and under the tree top, ex¬ 
pecting the next moment to go over, or at least 
have most of the outfit swept overboard within 
reach of the terrible trunk. I looked back; the 
batteau had swung under the tree trunk, and its 
motion for a moment was arrested. Alex 
had “ris” superior to the situation, he thought; 
and grasped the tree trunk in his powerful arms, 
vainly endeavoring to stop the batteau and force 
its bow into slack water to the right bank near 
the roots of the tree. It was of no use. The 
powerful current carried the heavily-loaded boat 
against Alex’ feet and legs with such force as 
to literally boost him up and over the tree trunk 
and drop him in the water head first. The whole 
thing was so quickly and completely done, and 
the situation of the darkey so supremely ridic¬ 
ulous, that I simply rolled off my seat in a par¬ 
oxysm of laughter. I think now, as then, if 
one weak effort on my part would have saved 
the boat from wreck, I would have been un¬ 
able to make that effort. I imagine, that to my 
last hour, I will not forget the expression on 
that darkey’s face as he paused for one brief 
moment over that tree trunk, head down, eyes 
protruding and enlarged by terror, his enormous 
feet encased in No. 12 shoes, high in the air, 
gyrating in a vain and frantic endeavor to save 
himself, his big hands stretched out within a few 
inches of the water and his fingers working with 
the energy of despair. He took the plunge in 
fifteen feet of water with a yell of anguish. 
Coming to the surface near the batteau, fortun¬ 
ately he grasped the side and clambered in, a 
soaked, frightened nigger- Seeing my face and 
quickly realizing the situation, the air was at 
once filled with vocal explosions that might have 
been heard a half mile. 
“I tell yo Mars Dick, dat wuz a clus call fur 
me, an’ when I see I was at de pint ob.goin’ in 
shur, I wus jist mighty glad I was a member ob 
de church, fur I spected I wuz agwine to see 
dis yer world no mo. Laws, but I wuz a scart 
nigger! Now, I spects Mista Josef will have 
(Continued on page 54.) 
Sharing the Noonday Meal. 
