CHAPTER XX.
In less than a month after his return from South America, Boyton was in St. Paul, Minnesota, ready to start on a voyage of one thousand and eight miles down the Mississippi river to Cairo, this trip being undertaken in order to complete the length of that river from source to mouth. Though there were no adventures of extraordinary interest in this voyage, it was the stormiest one he ever encountered; and he was diverted on the way by two peculiar characters that accompanied him, being almost continually provoked to mirth by the humorous incidents which befell them. His companion was a celebrated German artist, Dr. C., who was on his first visit to America, as a representative of that famous publication, the Gartenlaube. The Doctor was a scholarly gentleman, but being unacquainted with American characteristics, which had been sadly misrepresented to him by some of his countrymen who were inclined to joke, he had an exaggerated notion as to how he must dress and act for such a trip as he was going to take. When he was at St. Paul, he thought he was on the skirts of civilization and it behooved him to appear in such a manner as not to be imposed on as a novice. So when he was presented to Boyton, he was gaily attired in a buckskin suit, with revolver and bowie knife trimmings, looking rather out of place with the scholarly spectacles that bridged his nose. He really outdid the most fanciful cowboy of the far western ranches. Such an outfit he imagined just the thing for a trip among the wild characters on the Upper Mississippi. The other member of the party was a broad nosed, Herculean negro whom Paul hired to pull the row boat he had purchased for the Doctor's accommodation.
Boyton found that the scenery on the Upper Mississippi was more beautiful than on any river he had yet traversed. There was not that startling grandeur which characterized the shores of some of the rivers; but it was beautiful—with high buttes and pleasant shores, while the people throughout its entire length are exceedingly hospitable. If the loveliness of this river were better known, it would be more generally visited by tourists in search of rest or recreation. On the morning of May nineteenth, 1881, the start was made, the usual crowd of people lining the banks to see them off.
Several of the Doctor's enthusiastic friends presented him with a keg of beer. It was placed in his skiff. Unfortunately, they forgot to give him a faucet. All that day was very hot, and the entire party longed for a drink from its cooling depths. Late that evening a steamer, towing a raft, came slowly down the river. Paul told the negro to pull alongside and have the raftsman open the keg. They had no faucet but they had an auger, with which they willingly started to bore into its head. A moment afterward a white fountain shot to the sky and all hands held their hats to catch the descending shower.
They ran along without other adventure, until the second day out, when Lake Pipin was reached, where they were met by a heavy head wind and an enormous sea, that almost swamped the Doctor's boat; but they hauled up at Lake City in safety, where they passed the night.
The first reception accorded the voyagers was at La Crosse, where they were greeted with a blaze of fireworks and the roaring of cannon.
Below La Crosse as they were swinging along between the willow-laden banks of the beautiful river, whose waters, unlike the thick yellow of its lower half, where it partakes of the character of the Missouri, are clear and pure, the Doctor developed a taste for hunting and asked permission to use the shotgun that had been stowed away in the boat. Boyton readily consented; but seeing that the Doctor knew nothing about handling the weapon, which was an improved breech loader, some pains were taken to instruct him in the use of it. It looked so simple that the Doctor thought he had mastered it without any trouble at all. The negro, however, was not so confident and eyed the gun in the Doctor's hands with great suspicion.
"Ise not sayin' nun' Cap'en" he remarked to Paul, "but that man aint been rised aroun' whar da do much shootin', suah's yo' libe. Dar aint no tellin' whar he gwine fur to pint that weepin' an Ise running chances in hyah wid him. Dat's right, Cap'en."
He was assured that there would be no danger; but he was far from being satisfied and kept an anxious eye on the Doctor's movements.
After further instructions and admonishing the Doctor to be very careful, Boyton resumed his paddle and was soon ploughing ahead of the boat. He had not proceeded a mile when he heard a report of the gun and turning, saw both the Doctor and the darkey gazing intently into the sky at a gull that was sailing leisurely around a half mile or so above them. The Doctor nervously rubbed his glasses and looked again, at a loss to determine why the bird did not fall. When the boat dropped alongside, Paul explained to the astonished Doctor that a shotgun only carried a short distance and he could not expect to hit anything so far away.