closed in under a point, where the dead water and the
helping eddies were, and shaved the bank so closely
that the decks were swept by the jungle of over-hanging
willows and littered with a spoil of leaves; departing
from these “points” she regularly crossed
the river every five miles, avoiding the “bight”
of the great binds and thus escaping the strong current;
sometimes she went out and skirted a high “bluff”
sand-bar in the middle of the stream, and occasionally
followed it up a little too far and touched upon the
shoal water at its head—and then the intelligent
craft refused to run herself aground, but “smelt”
the bar, and straightway the foamy streak that streamed
away from her bows vanished, a great foamless wave
rolled forward and passed her under way, and in this
instant she leaned far over on her side, shied from
the bar and fled square away from the danger like
a frightened thing—and the pilot was lucky
if he managed to “straighten her up” before
she drove her nose into the opposite bank; sometimes
she approached a solid wall of tall trees as if she
meant to break through it, but all of a sudden a little
crack would open just enough to admit her, and away
she would go plowing through the “chute”
with just barely room enough between the island on
one side and the main land on the other; in this sluggish
water she seemed to go like a racehorse; now and then
small log cabins appeared in little clearings, with
the never-failing frowsy women and girls in soiled
and faded linsey-woolsey leaning in the doors or against
woodpiles and rail fences, gazing sleepily at the
passing show; sometimes she found shoal water, going
out at the head of those “chutes” or crossing
the river, and then a deck-hand stood on the bow and
hove the lead, while the boat slowed down and moved
cautiously; sometimes she stopped a moment at a landing
and took on some freight or a passenger while a crowd
of slouchy white men and negroes stood on the bank
and looked sleepily on with their hands in their pantaloons
pockets,—of course—for they never
took them out except to stretch, and when they did
this they squirmed about and reached their fists up
into the air and lifted themselves on tip-toe in an
ecstasy of enjoyment.
When the sun went down it turned all the broad river to a national banner laid in gleaming bars of gold and purple and crimson; and in time these glories faded out in the twilight and left the fairy archipelagoes reflecting their fringing foliage in the steely mirror of the stream.
At night the boat forged on through the deep solitudes of the river, hardly ever discovering a light to testify to a human presence—mile after mile and league after league the vast bends were guarded by unbroken walls of forest that had never been disturbed by the voice or the foot-fall of man or felt the edge of his sacrilegious axe.