“Well, I guess that’s right enough,” laughed Bobby. “If I had known ’Rastus’ full name, I’d have slung him two life preservers, for fear one wouldn’t be able to float it.”
“It is a mighty big name for such a little rascal,” said Fred, “but he seemed grateful enough, Bobby. Maybe he’ll do you a good turn some day. You never can tell.”
CHAPTER XII
UNDER SUNNY SKIES
It was early one morning that the ship warped into her berth at New Orleans. The three friends were up bright and early, as they knew that the steamer would dock shortly after dawn, and they did not want to miss any of the excitement of the event. The big wharves were swarming with negro stevedores, who joked and sang good-naturedly as they shifted huge bales of cotton and boxes containing all manner of goods. Ships already at their docks, either loading or unloading, sent up puffs of steam as their cargo winches lifted huge nets full of barrels and boxes from the seemingly inexhaustible holds, or consigned them to the same place. Mule teams, horse teams, and big rumbling automobile trucks came and went, getting in each other’s way and giving rise to short but forceful arguments on the part of their drivers. In a word, all the varied bustle and activity of a large and busy port was spread out for the boys to view from their vantage point on the upper deck.
On the dock for which they were heading, a group of negro laborers was waiting for the vessel to be made fast, and suddenly one of them started a spirited “buck and wing” dance, the others singing, whistling, and keeping time by clapping their hands. As the ship crept up to the dock at a snail’s pace, many of the passengers crowded over to the starboard side, where the boys were standing, and when the perspiring dancer finally ended with a double shuffle and a bow, he was rewarded by a shower of coins that rained down from the side of the ship which was now being warped up to the dock and made fast.
“Some pep to that boy,” commented Fred. “You’d think they’d save their energy for the work ahead of them.”
“Oh, a negro always has time and energy for a little fun, no matter how hard he has to work,” replied Lee. “I’ve seen them dancing and cutting up after a long day of cotton picking, and that’s about as hard work as I know anything about.”
But there was no longer much time to spend on the deck, for now the gangplank had been shot out and the passengers were beginning to stream over it. This reminded the boys that they also had some strapping and bundling to do, and they rushed to their stateroom and got to work. In a few minutes all their packing had been done, and with warm good-bys to the officers and many of the passengers, with whom they had become favorites, they left the steamer.
“Seems like an old friend, already,” commented Bobby, as they walked along the pier. “I don’t wonder that sailors fall in love with their ships.”
“I suppose any place begins to seem like home after you’ve been there for a while,” replied Fred. “But as for me give me terra cotta every time.”