Skeeter had already stopped the engine, and the negroes lost no time in releasing the line.
Then started a pow-wow lasting an hour, about whose business it was to untie the boat. They finally made Figger Bush the goat, on the ground that his office of skipper was to skip around and do everything the others forgot. They abused him dreadfully for his neglect of duty, and Skeeter turned his back to the wheel several times while he delivered a remark which was calculated to reduce Skipper Bush’s self-esteem to a minimum.
This was a very risky proceeding on the part of the pilot, especially when the boat was hugging the shore and navigating the slack water. Skeeter found it out when the bottom of the boat grated dully upon some soft substance underneath, and the boat paddled feebly, emitted a few discouraging puffs, and stopped.
Then the worm turned, with the venom of a moccasin snake.
“Dar now!” Figger Bush snarled. “Look whut you done went an’ did! Run us up on a mud bank!”
Drawn by E. W. Kemble.
When the boat stopped.
Skeeter reversed the machinery, pulled the whistle-cord, puffed and snorted, sloshed the Mississippi about some, developed a thousand snort-power from his engine, but not enough horse-power to back off.
In his embarrassment he sweated enough water to raise the river and float his craft off the mud bank, if the water could have been applied at the right place.