He'd just hump his shoulders and screw a steam-valve down.
Well, one day, out from Omaha,
Way late in November and makin' our last run,
Blizzard come, quick and thick and raw,
Slim was at the engines when the storm begun.
Boat chuck full, passengers and freight,
Had to get 'em somewhere 'fore the freeze-up brought us to,
So we run, crowdin' on the gait
And hopin' that a blind snag wouldn't rip our bottom through.
All at once a woman screamed aloud—