"Ha, no coat! From the country. To the gods with you"; and straightway handed me a bit of paper and claimed his quarter.
Not among the gods, but rather with the damned in hell, I thought, on climbing to my seat, for I could conceive of no hotter place than that in which I found myself. Here, too, I lost what small change I had about me, and this by the help of a pleasant-spoken young man who sat beside me and was at pains to point out the fine points of the play, and otherwise entertain me with stories of the town, in the intervals of the acts. This adventure, because of my inexperience, discouraged me from making further excursions of a like nature, so that thereafter I was content with such exterior views of the city as my short stature and the crowded streets would permit.
CHAPTER XLIV
THE STEAMBOAT RACE
The season, which had been a highly prosperous one for the War Eagle, at last drew to a close, and when, late in October, we left St. Louis on our last trip, travel had ceased, and we were without passengers of any kind save a few emigrants for Keokuk and the towns thereabouts. Nor did we have any freight to speak of, but were promised a load on the down run, and this it was that had induced the captain to make the venture so late in the year. Of the cabin boys only Devlin and I remained, and like reductions had been made elsewhere throughout the crew. Thus lightened of men and merchandise, our good boat skimmed the water like the seagull she was.
The War Eagle was the pride of the upper river, excelling all others in beauty of outline and speed, so that the most ill-natured did not venture to question her supremacy. As the season was closing, however, whispers crept about the landings that the new boat, the Northern Light, was the better of the two. These insinuations our people did not regard, for if this were so, why did she always leave ahead of us, or lag behind when we pulled into the stream? Other signs there were of fear, too plain not to be seen of all men. Still the whispers went on, till at last there had come to be a settled belief on the part of many that the Northern Light was the faster boat. This was mere boasting, it was plain, for now we were making our last trip without having once heard the roar of her wheels or the boom of her exhaust alongside the War Eagle. Surely there could be no better proof than this, if proof were needed. Thus matters stood when one crisp afternoon, just as the sun was setting, we turned into the Appletop landing, and this happily, we thought, for there lay the Northern Light with steam up, as if awaiting our coming. Pert and trim she was, too, we could not help but own, riding the water like a wood-duck ready for flight. Looking her over from out the corner of his eye, Captain McGonnigle discharged the little business we had, and taking all the wood aboard we could carry, signaled the mate to cast off. This in such haste, too, that I had scarce time to say good by to Constance, who, with Setti, had awaited our coming.
As we backed into the stream, the Northern Light preceded us, and reaching the channel, took the opposite side, and doing so slowed down her engines. Surely invitation was never more plainly or courteously given! Now at last they were going to see which was the better boat, and fairly, as such things should be. Mounting to the top of the pilot-house, a thing most unusual with him, Captain McGonnigle signaled to put on all steam; and even as he gave the order great clouds of black smoke, changing soon to gray, belched forth from the towering stacks of the War Eagle. Nor was it long before the heightened roar of the exhaust told him his summons had been effective, and that the Northern Light would not find us lagging in the race. Thus in a few moments we found ourselves in the channel, the Northern Light, with her wheels slowly turning, awaiting our coming, as if not desiring advantage of any kind. Seeing this, Captain McGonnigle smiled and raised his cap to the other captain in graceful recognition of his fairness. With this friendly act, however, all intercourse between them ceased, for it was not a question of courtesy now, but of supremacy, in which the good name of the War Eagle hung trembling in the balance. Squaring himself and looking forward, Captain McGonnigle became from this time on lost to everything save the windings of the channel and the movements of the two boats. Straightway as they shot ahead a stillness as of death took possession of all on board, for in the hearts of the most hopeful there could not but be a doubt as to which would prove the faster now that the struggle was fairly on. As the vessels gained in speed, the water, already tipped with white-caps, flew high above their prows, spraying the decks and those who stood watching as with a falling shower. Behind, it tossed and foamed, white and glistening, like an angry cataract, as far as the eye could see in the gathering night. High above the swash of the wheels and the noise of the escaping steam, and as if in emphasis, the sharp clang of the bells could be plainly heard as the captains called for sharper fires. Scarce would one cease to vibrate than the other would take it up, and this with angry vehemence, as if the previous summons had been neglected or only half fulfilled.
Thus the challenge rang back and forth as we stood watching and listening, doing nothing, nor able to do anything. In this way night came on, and the stars flared out in the peaceful sky, but without any one regarding them, or, indeed, knowing that the day had set. Now lights began to blaze forth from the cabins of the struggling boats, and at every prescribed place, fore and aft, and amidships, the signals of the river gave forth their warning. About the furnaces, red with heat, the glare of the fires threw a lurid light over the gurgling waters and the toiling stokers as they bent over their work, stripped to the waist and streaming with sweat. Till now no gain had been made by either boat; or, if in the windings of the channel, which the sharp prows followed as bloodhounds do their quarry, the inner circle, shortening the distance, gave some advantage, it was quickly lost in the next turning, where the circle was reversed. Thus, amid the cheering, first of one crew and then the other, the boats flew onward, the water beside their prows sparkling as if the river were aflame from the friction of the flying vessels.
Increasing her speed by greater skill in firing, or some cunning device held in reserve for such emergencies, the War Eagle stretched away as a greyhound will when its prey is full in view, yet without gaining any advantage, however small. Nay, the other presently bringing into play a trick not before employed, began to forge ahead. This for no reason that we could see, until at last, the flash of her fires lighting up the interior of the vessel, discovered her crew pouring oil on the fuel, and at intervals flinging great balls steeped in the liquid substance into the roaring furnaces. At the sight Captain McGonnigle threw up his hands, crying out: "God save us!" as if astonished beyond measure at the recklessness of the thing. Regaining himself after a moment, his brow darkened, and bending over he ordered the engineer to push the fires as the other was doing. With his speaking, and as if action had only awaited his command, the War Eagle responded to the added force, and so regained after a while the few feet it had lost. Now great flames burst from the tops of the heated smokestacks, rising high in the air, and falling, left streams of fire to slowly sink into the glistening river far behind. Such flames, indeed, we had seen bursting from the Northern Light, but, simple-minded, we ascribed them to their greater skill in firing. In this way the War Eagle plowed her way through the darkness, passing one after another the little towns at which we had thought to stop, but now giving them no attention whatever. Making no gain, Captain McGonnigle at last looked about as if to discover some way by which he might increase the speed of his vessel, but without result. Seeing this, I approached him, and plucking his sleeve, cried at the top of my voice, so as to make myself heard:
"Wouldn't it help the boat, sir, if we lifted the yawl that's dragging at the stern?"