The island pirate, a tale of the Mississippi

by Mayne Reid

But by certain municipality laws the levee is apportioned, so that each kind of craft—ships, steamboats, flats, and rafts—has a stretch of shore appropriated to itself. There are the shipping wharves—two sets of them—the steamboat wharves, and, last of all, that portion of the levee set apart for the odd-looking embarkations known as "keels" and "flat-boats."

Of these there is usually a large "fleet" lying along shore—especially at that time of the year when the up-country produce is floated down from a hundred head-waters to the great depot and entrepot of the Mississippi Valley.

It was just then the season; and on reaching the flat-boat wharf, we found some hundreds of these antediluvian-like structures lying against the wharf, and so closely packed together that a man might have stepped from the roof of one to the other, throughout the whole conglomeration.

Sauntering along, without appearing to be particularly interested in any of them, Mr. Sawyer and I proceeded to make our reconnoissance. Most of them had their stagings out and were delivering their cargoes on shore—hogsheads of sugar and tobacco, barrels of pork, and bags of Indian corn. Some appeared to have been already emptied, and to be watching for a purchaser who would break them up for firewood.

There were a few lying a little way off from the levee, as if crowded out of place, and waiting for a chance to come in.

One of these particularly drew my attention. I fancied I had seen it before. It was only a vague conjecture, but I could not help thinking that it was the same craft on board of which I had spent some very unpleasant hours, and from which I had been so unceremoniously ejected. No one appeared above decks. Else I might have more easily identified it.

For some time my companion and I sauntered back and forward along the levee, keeping an eye on this particular flat. I had already communicated to him my suspicion that it was the one we were in search of. We watched the hatch-door of the caboose; but, though standing open, no one came out or went in; and no face could be seen.

It at length occurred to me that if we could get aboard, I might find a trace to satisfy me. There was no plank communicating with the shore; but there was one to the adjacent boat, which was engaged in getting out its cargo, and by using this, we could step to the roof of the craft suspected.

Sawyer led the way. A slight apology to the owner of the discharging flat was sufficient to frank us; and we passed on over its roof, and stepped across the chasm dividing the two.

I had just time to see that Stinger, with his scrubbing-brush, had not altogether effaced that hideous stain, when a head popped up through the hatch, and a rough voice demanded "what we were doing there?" The demand was prefaced by an oath. I had seen enough to satisfy me, before perceiving that the speaker was Mr. Black; and without staying to hear the reply, which I left the lawyer to make, I averted my face, and returned, apparently unconcerned, to the shore.