The negro deck-hand came out and pumped the hand-power whistle in three long discordant blasts.  Then a queer thing happened.  The whistle was answered by a faint strain of music.  A little later the passengers saw a line of negroes come marching down the river bank to the wharf-boat.  They marched in military order, and from afar Peter recognized the white aprons and the swords and spears of the Knights and Ladies of Tabor, a colored burial association.

Siner wondered what had brought out the Knights and Ladies of Tabor.  The singing and the drumming gradually grew upon the air.  The passengers in the white cabin, came out on the guards at this unexpected fanfare.  As soon as the white travelers saw the marching negroes, they began joking about what caused the demonstration.  The captain of the launch thought he knew, and began an oath, but stopped it out of deference to the girl in the tailor suit.  He said it was a dead nigger the society was going to ship up to Savannah.

The girl in the tailor suit was much amused.  She said the darkies looked like a string of caricatures marching down the river bank.  Peter noticed her Northern accent, and fancied she was coming to Hooker’s Bend to teach school.

One of the drummers turned to another.

“Did you ever hear Bob Taylor’s yarn about Uncle ’Rastus’s funeral?  Funniest thing Bob ever got off.”  He proceeded to tell it.

Every one on the launch was laughing except the captain, who was swearing quietly; but the line of negroes marched on down to the wharf-boat with the unshakable dignity of black folk in an important position.  They came singing an old negro spiritual.  The women’s sopranos thrilled up in high, weird phrasing against an organ-like background of male voices.

But the black men carried no coffin, and suddenly it occurred to Peter Siner that perhaps this celebration was given in honor of his own home-coming.  The mulatto’s heart beat a trifle faster as he began planning a suitable response to this ovation.

Sure enough, the singing ranks disappeared behind the wharf-boat, and a minute later came marching around the stern and lined up on the outer guard of the vessel.  The skinny, grizzly-headed negro commander held up his sword, and the Knights and Ladies of Tabor fell silent.

The master of the launch tossed his head-line to the wharf-boat, and yelled for one of the negroes to make it fast.  One did.  Then the commandant with the sword began his address, but it was not directed to Peter.  He said: 

[Illustration:  Peter recognized the white aprons and the swords and spears of the Knights and Ladies of Tabor]

“Brudder Tump Pack, we, de Hooker’s Ben’ lodge uv de Knights an’ Ladies uv Tabor, welcome you back to yo’ native town.  We is proud uv you, a colored man, who brings back de highes’ crown uv bravery dis Newnighted States has in its power to bestow.