His companion, called Red, because his hair was of the hue of the carrots, and because it was occasionally necessary to distinguish him from his friend, seemed of about the same age and degree of ordinaries as Black, but was rather stouter, more cheery, and, to use the favorite roustabout simile, held his head closer to the current.
He seemed, when Black was absent-minded (as he generally was while off duty), to be the leading spirit of the couple, and to be tenderly alive to all of his partner's needs; but observing roustabouts noticed that when freight was being moved, or wood taken on board, Black was always where he could keep an eye on his chum, and where he could demand instant reparation from any wretch who trod upon Red's toes, or who, with a shoulder-load of wood, grazed Red's head, or touched Red with a box or barrel.
Next to neighborly wonder as to the existence of the friendship between the Chums, roustabouts with whom the couple sailed concerned themselves most with the cause of the bond between them. Their searches after first causes were no more successful, however, than those of the naturalists who are endeavoring to ascertain who laid the cosmic egg.
They gave out that they came from Carmi, so, once or twice, when captains with whom the Chums were engaged determined to seek a cargo up the Wabash, upon which river Carmi was located, inquisitive roustabouts became light-hearted. But, alas, for the vanity of human hopes! when the boat reached Carmi the Chums could not be found, nor could any inhabitant of Carmi identify them by the descriptions which were given by inquiring friends.
At length they became known, in their collective capacity, as one of the institutions of the river. Captains knew them as well as they knew Natchez or Piankishaw Bend, and showed them to distinguished passengers as regularly as they showed General Zach. Taylor's plantation, or the scene of the Grand Gulf "cave," where a square mile of Louisiana dropped into the river one night. Captains rather cultivated them, in fact, although it was a difficult bit of business, for roustabouts who wouldn't say "thank you" for a glass of French brandy, or a genuine, old-fashioned "plantation cigar," seemed destitute of ordinary handles of which a steamboat captain, could take hold.
Lady passengers took considerable notice of them, and were more successful than any one else at drawing them into conversation. The linguistic accomplishments of the Chums were not numerous, but it did one good to see Black lose his scared, furtive look when a lady addressed him, and to see the affectionate deference with which he appealed to Red, until that worthy was drawn into the conversation. When Black succeeded in this latter-named operation, he would, by insensible stages, draw himself away, and give himself up to enthusiastic admiration of his partner, or, apparently, of his conversational ability.
The Spring of 1869 found the Chums in the crew of the Bennett, "the peerless floating palace of the Mississippi," as she was called by those newspapers whose reporters had the freedom of the Bennett's bar; and the same season saw the Bennett staggering down the Mississippi with so heavy a load of sacked corn, that the gunwales amidships were fairly under water.
The river was very low, so the Bennett kept carefully in the channel; but the channel of the great muddy ditch which drains half the Union is as fickle as disappointed lovers declare women to be, and it has no more respect for great steamer-loads of corn than Goliath had for David.
A little Ohio river-boat, bound upward, had reported the sudden disappearance of a woodyard a little way above Milliken's Bend, where the channel hugged the shore, and with the woodyard there had disappeared an enormous sycamore-tree, which had for years served as a tying-post for steamers.
As live sycamores are about as disinclined to float as bars of lead are, the captain and pilot of the Bennett were somewhat concerned—for the sake of the corn—to know the exact location of the tree.