“I guess the pilots will make a good thing out of that job!” says my neighbour.—­

“Pilots!” I exclaimed, “how can that be?  I should think they stood a fair chance of losing their licence.”

“Ah! sir, we don’t fix things that way here; the pilots are too ’cute, sir.”  Upon inquiry, I found that, as the banks were continually shifting, it was, as my friend said, very difficult “to fix the pilots,”—­a fact which these worthies take every advantage of, for the purpose of driving a most profitable trade in the following manner.  Pilot goes to tug and says, “What do you charge for getting a ship off?” The price understood, a division of the spoil is easily agreed upon.  Away goes the pilot, runs the ship on shore on the freshest sandbank, curses the Mississippi and everything else in creation; a tug comes up very opportunely, a tidy bargain is concluded; the unfortunate pilot forfeits 100l., his pilotage from the ship, and consoles himself the following evening by pocketing 500l. from the tugman as his share of the spoil, and then starts off again in search of another victim.  Such, I was informed by practical people, is a common feature in the pilotage of these waters, and such it appears likely to continue.

The “Cherokee” is one of those vessels which belong to Mr. Law, of whom I could get no information, expect that he had sprung up like a mushroom to wealth and Filibustero notoriety.  He is also the custodian, I believe, of the three hundred thousand stand of arms ordered by Kossuth for the purpose of “whipping” Russia and Austria, and establishing the Republic of Hungary, unless by accident he found brains enough to become a Hungarian Louis Napoleon; but Mr. Law’s other vessel, called the “Crescent City,” and the Cuban Black Douglas, yclept “Purser Smith,” are perhaps better known.  Peradventure, you imagine this latter to be a wild hyena-looking man, with radiant red hair, fiery ferret eyes, and his pockets swelled out with revolutionary documents for the benefit of the discontented Cubans; but I can inform you, on the best authority, such is not the case, for he was purser of the “Cherokee” this voyage.  He looks neither wild nor rabid, and is a grey-headed man, about fifty years of age, with a dash of the Israelite in his appearance:  he may or he may not have Filibustero predilections—­I did not presume to make inquiry on the subject.  And here I cannot but remark upon the childish conduct of the parties concerned in the ridiculous “Crescent City and Cuba question,” although, having taken the view they did, the Spaniards were of course perfectly right in maintaining it.  It was unworthy of the Spanish nation to take notice of the arrival of so uninfluential a person as Purser Smith; and it was imprudent, inasmuch as it made him a person of importance, and gave the party with whom he was supposed to be connected a peg to hang grievances upon, and thus added to their strength.  It was equally unworthy of Mr. Law, when objection was made, and a notification