"It has indeed been a wonderful escape," Frank said, "and I think now that we should be ungrateful indeed if every one of us did not fervently thank God for having preserved us."
"Right you are, lad; praying ain't much in my way—not regular praying; but we men as lives a life like this, and knows that at any moment a snag may go through the boat's bottom, thinks of these things at times, and knows that our lives are in God's hands. It ain't in nature to go up and down this broad river, special at night, when the stars are shining overhead, and the dark woods are as quiet as death, and there ain't no sound to be heard but the lap of the water against the bow for a man not to have serious thoughts. It ain't our way to talk about it. I think we try to do our duty by our employers, and if a mate is laid up, he need never fear getting on a shoal for want of a helping hand; and when our time comes, I fancy as there ain't many of us as is afeared of death, or feels very bad about the account they say we have got to render arterwards. It's different with the niggers; it's their way to be singing hymns and having prayer-meetings, and such like. There is some as is agin this, and says it gives 'em notions, and sets them agin their masters; but I don't see it: it pleases 'em, and it hurts no one; it's just the difference of ways. I expect it comes to the same in the end; leastways, I have seen many a wreck in this here river, when whites and blacks have been a-looking death in the face together, and sartin the white man, even if he has been a hard man, ain't no more afraid to die than the black, generally just the contrary. That's my notion of things."
Frank nodded, and for a time there was silence in the cabin.
"How long are we likely to be in this fix?" Frank asked presently.
"Thar ain't no saying; supposing we don't bring up agin a snag—which the Lord forbid, for like, enough, the tree would shift its position, and we should find ourselves bottom upwards if we did—we may drift on for days and days. Still, we shall be safe to make ourselves seen as soon as the weather clears, and there are boats out again; we have only got to light a fire of wet wood to call their attention. I don't expect this here gale will last much longer; after another day it ought to begin to blow itself out. As long as nothing happens to this tree, and the boat keeps fast where it is, there ain't nothing to make ourselves uncomfortable about. We'd best have a look at them lashings; I tell you, there is a tidy strain on them."
Examining the ropes carefully, they found some of them were already chafed, and, dragging out a piece of wet canvas from the lockers, they cut it into strips and lashed it round the ropes at the points where they were chafing. The strain was indeed very heavy, for the tree and the waterlogged boat rose but little with the waves, and the bow was submerged deeply every time a wave passed them, the gunwale being at no time more than a few inches out of water. Additional lashings were put on, and then Hiram and Frank returned to the cabin, and the latter dozed away the hours till morning, as did the negroes, Hiram remaining wide awake and watchful, and going out from time to time to look at the lashings. As soon as day broke Frank roused himself and went out; Hiram was just descending from one of the boughs.
"I have had a look round," he said; "I don't think it's blowing quite so hard, but thar ain't much change yet. It ain't not to say a cheerful kind of lookout."
Frank climbed up to take a view for himself, but he was glad to return very quickly to the shelter of the cabin. Overhead was a canopy of low grey cloud; around, a curtain of driving rain; below, a chaos of white-headed waves. The day passed slowly, and with little change. Sam found in the fore-part of the boat the iron plate on which he built his fire. They fixed this on the roof of the cabin, fastened a tarpaulin across the boughs so as to shelter it from the rain and drift, and then, with some difficulty, managed to make a fire. Some hot coffee was first prepared, and a frying-pan was then put on and filled with slices of pork. The flour was wet, but Sam made some flat cakes of the wet dough, and placed them in the fat to fry when the pork was done.
"Not a bad meal that," Hiram said, when he had finished, "for a floating forest."
The negroes had now completely recovered from the effects of their fright and wetting, and their spirits, as usual, found vent in merry choruses.