Far different from this early boat was that used in the later years of business on the Missouri. The first-class modern river steamboat was about 220 feet long and 35 feet wide, and would carry 500 tons. It was built with a flat bottom, so that it would draw, say, thirty inches light and fifty loaded. It was propelled by a stern-wheel, a most excellent arrangement, which had become practicable through the invention of the balanced rudder: that is, a rudder with a part of the blade on each side of the rudder post. There were two engines of long stroke, one on each side of the boat, communicating directly with the wheel shaft and thus avoiding all loss from the friction of gearing. A proper distribution of the weight required that the boilers be placed well forward. This left a large space between them and the engine room, which was well aft.
FIGURATIVE DESIGN.
The forecastle was equipped with steam capstans and huge spars, which served a purpose similar to that of the poles on a keelboat in pushing the boat over sandbars. Steam hoisting apparatus was used, and in the hold were light tramway cars to convey the freight from the hatchway to its place of deposit. Enormous stages, swung from derricks on either side of the bow, facilitated communication with the high banks of the river. The quarters of the crew and steerage passengers were on the boiler deck. On top of the hurricane deck was the texas—a suite of rooms for the officers of the boat. Above the texas stood the pilot-house, high over the river—a very important consideration, for the more directly the pilot could look down the better he could see the channel. The hurricane deck, and particularly the pilot-house, were favorite resorts for the passengers.
High above all towered the lofty smokestacks, carrying the sparks from the wood fire well away from the roof of the boat and giving a strong draft to the furnace. Between the two chimneys the name of the company generally appeared in large initial letters, legible for a long distance.[13] One or more flags displayed their colors to the breeze, and a light armament, consisting of one or two small cannon, answered the double purpose of firing salutes and terrifying Indians who became too defiant.
CHAPTER X.
STEAMBOAT NAVIGATION ON THE MISSOURI RIVER.
The Missouri River pilot was beyond question the most skillful representative of his profession. In no other kind of navigation were the qualities of quick perception, intuitive grasp of a situation, nerve to act boldly and promptly, coolness and judgment in times of danger, so important and so constantly in demand. Navigation on the ocean was child’s play in comparison. The Missouri represented in the highest degree the peculiar dangers characteristic of alluvial streams. Its current was swift, its channel full of snags, its surface nearly always ruffled by the prairie gale, and never for five minutes in succession in a condition which would permit the pilot to take his hand from the wheel or the engineer to let go of the throttle. The elaborate system of communication between the pilot-house and the engine room was always in service, and the tinkle of signal bells in the engineer’s ear was almost continuous. The position of pilot was responsible and exacting, and called for a high order of ability. And so it resulted that the better class of pilots were men of high standing and character, in whose care business men unhesitatingly intrusted their property and the lives of their families.
THE TWO BARKS.
The ever-shifting condition of the river channel[14] caused the pilot to seek all available information as to its latest position. When other boats were met there was an eager swapping of notes, for it was a common practice in later years for pilots to assist each other by keeping notes of the condition of the river over which they passed.[15] The pilots thus came to know the river by heart from its mouth to the head of navigation. The extraordinary knowledge of its topography and nomenclature which Captain La Barge retained to the end of his life was almost incredible. There was not a bend or rapid, a bed of snags, or other feature in all of its twenty-six hundred miles that was not as familiar to him as the rooms of his own house.
THE FUEL PROBLEM.