Below Little Rock as night came on, a small steamer was encountered tied up to the bank and Paul and his companion spent the night aboard of her. It was that night that Boyton succumbed to something worse than rapids, quicksand or waterfalls. They had lighted their pipes after supper and were lounging about the cabin talking of their adventures, when Paul asked Read what kind of smoking tobacco he used.
"Old natural leaf," said Opie, "have some?"
"Don't care if I do."
The pipe was refilled and puffing away, Paul continued relating some adventure.
It was an interesting experiment to his listeners and they watched anxiously. They knew that that kind of tobacco must form a man's acquaintance gradually. It will brook no sudden familiarity. The smoke curled in fantastic wreathes about Boyton's head and the stories became less thrilling. His eyes gradually became yellow and his swarthy countenance turned a pale green. The words tumbled over one another and, got mixed up woefully.
"Look here," he said, struggling to keep his eyes open, "where did you get that tobacco?"
"In Little Rock."
"Whew! its stronger than the falls of the Arno," and turning over, he slept, perhaps to dream of red oak tobacco sticks, and bare legged boys with green hands, killing worms. He succumbed to "Arkansaw natural leaf."
Next morning they pulled out for Pine Bluff, the last run of the voyage. Above the city, the steamer Woodson met them with a party of excursionists on board. Capt. F. G. Smart, of Jefferson, was detailed to deliver an address of welcome to Boyton as soon as they met him. The Captain was an enthusiastic admirer of the voyager and had taken numerous doses of "Arkansaw lightning" for the purpose of inspiring his oratorical powers. As Boyton swung into sight, the Captain sprang upon something laying near the rail and throwing both hands up as though a highwayman had him covered with a Winchester, he began his speech.
"Standing here on this sack of salt," he roared, "I say standing here on—"