I rang to stop her, for I could feel a sort of sensation as though the keel of the Sylvania was making a furrow in the field under us. The steamer stopped almost as soon as I rang the bell. But as the water was rising instead of falling, I did not feel at all concerned about her situation. I immediately ordered both boats to be lowered. Ben and Hop went off in one, and Buck and Landy in the other. Not far from the knoll, which could not have been more than three or four feet above the flat over which we had been sailing, I saw the boat the two men from the steamer had been swamped in. I told Buck to tow it to the steamer, and we had it alongside in a few moments. I sent the quarter-boat back to the rescue of the people in the houses and cabins. The river steamer's boat was full of water. We drew her under the davits on the port side, made fast to her, and hauled her out of the water, hoisting the bow end first, so that the water would run out of her. When both ends were abreast of the rail of the vessel, we tipped her over, and entirely freed her of water. I sent Washburn and Dyer Perkins in her to assist the other two boats.
Even at this important hour, the abominably dirty condition of the Sylvania, which had been bathed in mud, actually pained me. Away from the furious current of the crevasse, the mud settled, and the water was comparatively clean. Cobbington and the two waiters had been at work swabbing the quarter-deck, but with no good result. I directed the engineer to rig the fire-engine, and we soon drowned the decks with water. This, with the swabs, made clean work. By the time the first boat came off from the knoll, the Sylvania looked nearly as neat as when she had left the great river. The hot sun dried the planks about as soon as they were swabbed.
In the port-boat, under the direction of Ben Bowman, was a family of four persons whom I took to be the occupants of one of the mansions. A gentleman and his wife, with a son and daughter, were the first helped on board: nearly all the others were negroes. I showed the white people down into the cabin, and directed Cobbington to do all he could for their comfort.
In the course of half an hour we had seventy-two persons whom we rescued. We were unable to find any more. The three boats had searched every house which could contain a human being. They had taken men, women and children from the trees, as well as the houses. We sounded the whistle vigorously, and then waited for any call.
There were no more, and I directed the pilot to work back to the levee.
CHAPTER XXVI.
A DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH THE RUSHING WATERS.
The water had risen so that the Sylvania had swung around and drifted half-way up to the knoll, or to the houses on the highest part of it. As soon as we were under way, I had a chance to look over our large number of passengers. Three-quarters of them were negroes, mostly house-servants. I was told that the field hands had escaped in another direction before the water rose high enough to prevent it. The inundation was only partly due to the crevasse, for the water had broken in at some unknown point in the rear of the plantations.
We had taken off the four families that occupied the mansion houses. They were all highly cultivated people, ladies and gentlemen in the highest sense of the words. I had conducted them all to the main cabin; but they were not disposed to remain there. They wanted to see how the Sylvania was to return to the Mississippi River, and expressed many doubts as to her being able to make her way through the crevasse against the strong current. I had some painful doubts myself in this direction. I had told the engineer about them, and hinted that we should want all the steam he could carry. But it was only a question of the power of the engine to force the vessel against the current. There would be no pitching and plunging, such as we had experienced in coming the other way.