Her officers and crew were moving actively about; both pilots were seen above at the wheel-house; the firemen were all at work upon the deck; the furnace-doors were glowing red-hot; and the bright blaze stood several feet above the tops of her tall funnels! One might have fancied she was on fire!
“They are burning bacon hams!” shouted a voice.
“They are by—!” exclaimed another. “See, yonder’s a pile of them in front of the furnace!”
I turned my eyes in that direction. It was quite true. A pyramidal-shaped mass of dark-brown objects lay upon the deck in front of the fires. Their size, shape, and colour told what they were—dried hams of bacon. The firemen were seen taking them from the pile, and thrusting them one after another up the red tunnels of the furnace!
The Magnolia was still gaining upon us. Already her head was even with the wheel-house of the Belle. On the latter boat the excitement increased, and the noise along with it. An occasional taunt from the passengers of the rival boat added fuel to the flame; and the Captain was once more abjured to run. Men almost threatened him with violence!
The Magnolia continued to advance. She was now head for head with us. Another minute passed—a minute of deep silence—the crews and passengers of both boats watched their progress with hearts too full for utterance. Another minute, and the Magnolia had shot ahead!
A triumphant cheer rang along her decks, mingled with taunting shouts and expressions of insult.
“Throw us a line, and we’ll tow you!” cried one.
“Whar’s yer old ark now?” shouted another.
“Hurraw for the Magnolia! Three groans for the Belle of the West! Three groans for the old dugout!” vociferated a third, amidst jeers and shouts of laughter.