CHAPTER IX. THE PILOT'S GRATITUDE.
George was greatly surprised to find that it requires skill, and a good deal of it, too, to do so simple a thing as keeping a steamer in a straight course. Mr. Black had done it without the least apparent exertion, not unfrequently managing the wheel with only one hand, but George could not, for the life of him, keep the jack-staff directed towards the object in the bend that had been pointed out to him. That leaning tree was like the negative pole of a magnet: it seemed to repel rather than to attract; and every time the jack-staff was brought to bear upon it, the bow would swing to one side or the other, and George could not hold it anywhere. Like all beginners, he kept the wheel in constant motion; but he was quick to learn anything in which he was interested, and it was not long before he found out that there was always an increased strain upon the tiller rope before the boat began to swing, and that easing the wheel a spoke or two did more good than giving it a round turn. When he had learned this much, he had taken the first step towards learning how to steer a steamboat.
"The deepest water is not always to be found in the middle of the river," continued Mr. Black. "If it was, what would be the use of pilots? Anybody could take a boat up or down the river, provided he knew the bells and could handle the wheel. But the channel is constantly changing, and to-day we find plenty of water in places where sand-bars were high and dry a year or two ago."
"How do you know, then, but that the channel we are now following may change over to the other side of the river before you come down again?" said George.
"I don t know it. I shouldn't be in the least surprised, for stranger things than that have happened. Do you see that tow-head over there?" inquired Mr. Black, directing the boy's attention to a little grove of willows that grew on the farther side of the stream; "that's 'Old' river. The Mississippi used to run on the other side of that tow-head, at least three miles from where it runs now. It is these constant changes that make it necessary for us to have fields-men, who are willing to devote all their time to keeping track of the channel. A pilot of twenty, or even ten years ago, would find it hard work to take a boat to New Orleans. In fact, I don't believe that he could do it, if he depended entirely upon himself. But we help one another all we can. For example, when we get to Cairo, some pilot there, who hasn't been down the river for a few months, will ask me how I got into Helena; there's a very bad river there, you know, and lots of bars, and those bars are always on the move. I'll tell him all the turns I made, and he will remember every word I say, and make the same turns in the darkest of nights. That's why I told you that a man must have a good memory to be a pilot. Now here we are in the bend, and this leaning tree will be of no more use to us to-day. We must find something else to steer by. Bring her around easy, keeping just about this distance from the shore—that's it—now a little more. Steady at that. Do you see that log cabin up there in the bight of the next bend? Well, run the boat right in at the door."
George, who changed the course of the boat very cleverly in obedience to these instructions, told himself that he was learning rapidly, and the pilot remarked that he was doing very well indeed for a boy who had never touched a wheel before. While he was thus engaged, Ned, who had grown tired of idling away the time in his bunk, sauntered up to the hurricane-deck, and exhibited the greatest surprise at what he saw when he glanced toward the pilot-house. He came up the steps, seated himself on the elevated bench, and listened eagerly to the conversation between Mr. Black and his cousin. He must have heard something that interested him, for when the dinner-bell rang, and Mr. Black took the wheel, after telling George that he could come up and steer for his partner in the afternoon, if he felt so inclined, Ned hurried off to hunt up his father, whom he found in the barber shop.
"George has struck something already," he whispered, as he turned the water into one of the wash-bowls, "and I hope from the bottom of my heart that he will make the most of it. He has been steering the boat all the morning, and from what I heard him say to the pilot, I gained the idea that he has some intention of becoming a river man."
"Perhaps it would be a good opening for him," said Uncle John, burying his face in one of the towels.
"I am sure it would," replied Ned. "It would take him three years at least to learn the river, and there are no vacations, you know."