This weight he seemed not to have thought of, and was on the point of directing me to have the boat hoisted, when, reflecting, he shook his head, saying:
"Go and see if their boat is dragging, and if it is, leave ours."
This practice will seem strange to you, but at the time of which I speak was common enough. The landing-places were then far apart, you must know, so that it was the custom to take on passengers or put them ashore at intermediate points; and to save time in such emergencies, a yawl or light boat was allowed to drag ready for use, except that the oars were removed to prevent their being stolen.
Upon receiving the captain's order I hastened to the lower deck, where I found our yawl dragging in the water, as I have said. Turning to the Northern Light, I clearly made out its boat tied in like manner, and in the stern one of the crew resting at his ease. Envying him his seat, and reasoning that we ought not to enjoy any unfair advantage, as the captain himself had thought, I slipped into our boat, and untying the rope, let it run out through the ring that held it, until in this way I had dropped back a yard or more. Thus master of the situation, I could at will come close under the deck of the War Eagle or remain away, as I might wish. Reclining in the stern of the boat, wearied with the excitement of the evening, I was soothed and rested by the swash of the water as it tossed the light craft in which I lay this way and that. Yet without in any way losing interest in the race, for now a new view presented itself, and this more picturesque, I thought, than the other. Above my head clouds of fire and escaping steam flew across the reddened sky, while about me the air was filled with spray, which, falling on my upturned face, wet it as with a refreshing dew. Before me the War Eagle groaned and creaked, and a little way off the other vessel, not less strenuous, put forth her every effort to gain some slight advantage, but unsuccessfully, as one could plainly see.
After a while, beginning to tire, as we will of every form of excess, I was meditating a return to the War Eagle, when flames, higher and fiercer than before, burst from her stacks, lighting up the heavens with a deeper and wider glow. Thinking some new device was being tried, I sat still, and doing so, felt the increased power of the boat, and this as if she had before been held by some restraining hand. Seeing how it was, our crew raised a cheer, but alas! For as our stern tipped the prow of the Northern Light and victory seemed clearly ours, there came a sickening roar, all too plain, from the hull of the War Eagle. With the sound, and sooner than I can tell, the sky was aflame with fire and steam, and about me, and on my body and upturned face, particles of wood and iron fell in showers, as if dropped from heaven. Following the sound, and without any interlude whatever, the flying vessel, her body burst asunder, began to settle in the boiling water. Seeing this, and aroused by the sight, I sprang to my feet, and letting go the rope, the fierce current quickly drew it through the ring, and I was freed from the sinking boat.
Now I bethought me to aid the others, but alas! on looking about, there was not so much as a stick by which to hold or guide the craft in which I stood. In this way, and in agony of grief, and crying out at the top of my voice, I floated away into the gathering darkness as the War Eagle sank beneath the troubled waters. This, as I say, without being able to so much as lift a hand to help my friends. Not so those on board the Northern Light, for immediately the explosion occurred she reversed her engines, and in a moment her boats were dancing on the water and hastening, amid the cries of her crew, to the aid of our stricken people. This much I saw, but only partly and from afar off, so quickly did the current carry me away and out of sight. Standing up and straining my eyes to the utmost, the lights one by one faded out, until I was alone and helpless on the silent river; but of this I neither thought nor cared, for my heart was filled to bursting at the unhappy fate of my late companions. Gladly in my grief would I have stayed to share their death, but instead I was each moment being carried farther away, helpless as driftwood to aid either them or myself. Thus I stood for hours, looking back and mourning till the night was far spent and the moon arose over the distant hills of Illinois. At this, and in a measure soothed by the sight, I know not why, I threw myself down in the bottom of the boat, and so, after a while, fell into a troubled sleep.
Awakening at dawn, I stood up and scanned the shore on either side to see if I could make out some familiar object. In vain, however; and thus an hour or more passed without my seeing any one or being able to tell my whereabouts. Despondent and chilled by the sharp air, I began to search the boat anew, to see if I could not devise some way to reach the shore. While thus busied a voice hailed me, and looking up I was gladdened by finding myself abreast of Mr. Hayward's ferry, where Constance and I had passed so many happy days. Calling to Mr. Hayward—for it was he—to come to my aid, he loosened the skiff that lay fastened at hand, and pushing into the stream, soon neared the spot where I lay drifting with the current.
"Hello, Gilbert; is that you?" he cried, in surprise, on discovering who it was.
"Yes, sir."
"What's the matter? Where do you come from?" he asked, resting on his oars as if too much astonished to proceed.