"I say, gin'ral," answered Brown, "I'd rather drown than starve, any day. Jest give me the word for't and I'm yer right-hand man!"
"We'll go, Brown," was the laconic reply, and, boarding a small skiff, they floated down the seething waters to the mouth of the Big Sandy.
Here they found a small steamboat, called the "Sandy Valley," which had formerly been in the quartermaster's service. This, Garfield loaded with supplies, and ordered up river.
The captain, who was a secessionist, declared it was impossible to stem the current in such a flood. The water was at least sixty feet deep, and the trees along the banks were covered to their topmost branches.
"I will take the command of this steamer," said Garfield in an authoritative tone, at the same time ordering the captain and his men to get on board.
Placing Brown at the bow, Garfield took his stand at the helm. The most careful steering was necessary, for the water was full of dangerous snags and treacherous banks of sand. At one time the boat ran aground.
"We must get a line to the opposite shore!" exclaimed Garfield.
"It can't be done," said the rebel captain; "it's death to any man that attempts it!"
"It must be done!" cried Garfield, as he sprang into a yawl and called Brown to follow. For a few moments it seemed as if the little boat would be overborne by the current and utterly submerged. But the strong arm and indomitable will at last prevailed. Another moment of fearful suspense, and the opposite shore was gained. It was an easy matter, then, to fasten the rope, construct a windlass, and draw the steamboat out of the mud.
For two days and the greater part of one night, Garfield stood at the wheel, and at nine o'clock the following morning the provisions were safely landed at Paintville.