‘We will lay up here all night, captain.’

‘Very well, sir.’

That was all.  The boat came to shore and was tied up for the night.  It seemed to me a fine thing that the pilot could do as he pleased, without asking so grand a captain’s permission.  I took my supper and went immediately to bed, discouraged by my day’s observations and experiences.  My late voyage’s note-booking was but a confusion of meaningless names.  It had tangled me all up in a knot every time I had looked at it in the daytime.  I now hoped for respite in sleep; but no, it reveled all through my head till sunrise again, a frantic and tireless nightmare.

Next morning I felt pretty rusty and low-spirited.  We went booming along, taking a good many chances, for we were anxious to ’get out of the river’ (as getting out to Cairo was called) before night should overtake us.  But Mr. Bixby’s partner, the other pilot, presently grounded the boat, and we lost so much time in getting her off that it was plain that darkness would overtake us a good long way above the mouth.  This was a great misfortune, especially to certain of our visiting pilots, whose boats would have to wait for their return, no matter how long that might be.  It sobered the pilot-house talk a good deal.  Coming up-stream, pilots did not mind low water or any kind of darkness; nothing stopped them but fog.  But down-stream work was different; a boat was too nearly helpless, with a stiff current pushing behind her; so it was not customary to run down-stream at night in low water.

There seemed to be one small hope, however:  if we could get through the intricate and dangerous Hat Island crossing before night, we could venture the rest, for we would have plainer sailing and better water.  But it would be insanity to attempt Hat Island at night.  So there was a deal of looking at watches all the rest of the day, and a constant ciphering upon the speed we were making; Hat Island was the eternal subject; sometimes hope was high and sometimes we were delayed in a bad crossing, and down it went again.  For hours all hands lay under the burden of this suppressed excitement; it was even communicated to me, and I got to feeling so solicitous about Hat Island, and under such an awful pressure of responsibility, that I wished I might have five minutes on shore to draw a good, full, relieving breath, and start over again.  We were standing no regular watches.  Each of our pilots ran such portions of the river as he had run when coming up-stream, because of his greater familiarity with it; but both remained in the pilot house constantly.

An hour before sunset, Mr. Bixby took the wheel and Mr. W——­stepped aside.  For the next thirty minutes every man held his watch in his hand and was restless, silent, and uneasy.  At last somebody said, with a doomful sigh—­