"Git offen me," yelled a colored roustabout who had laid down and upon whom the Captain had planted himself.
"Get out of my way then," shouted the orator, "don't throw yourself in the attitude of a rostrum unless you have credentials. I say, ladies and gentlemen, we have assembled on this boat, to come up to meet a man coming down. It is my principle never to shove a man down; but on this occasion, I stand merely as a spectator. As a rule, a man goes down on whisky, but this man goes down on water. May we all meet on that beautiful shore, where every man can show a life saving suit of clothes."
The Captain's voice was drowned in a round of cheers and the sound of the steamboat's whistle, as she was headed down stream to escort Boyton to Pine Bluff, where he was warmly received, completing his voyage of four-hundred miles in six days.
Again embarking on his friend's little steamboat, a cruise down the Mississippi to the mouth of Red river followed, where some time was spent in hunting and then the boat was headed for New Orleans.
For two years following, with the exception of a run down the rapids of the James river at Richmond, Boyton was engaged in business. During that time he became an agent of the Haytien insurgents, as a purchaser of supplies and he barely escaped going out on the ship Lapatrie, which was captured and all on board executed by order of Hippolyte.
In 1884, Paul decided to give up his adventurous life, and settle down. He continued in business on shore until 1886, when his health became so affected by confinement that he was advised to resume his old outdoor life for a time, to recuperate. So he concluded to limber his joints with another voyage. On looking about for a course, he found he had made all the rivers in America that promised adventure, except those of the far west. He went to San Francisco and prepared for a run down the Sacramento from Red Bluff, four-hundred and fifty miles.
He entered the water, March 26th. It was a beautiful morning and the people from the town and surrounding country gathered to see him start. A boat load of reporters accompanied him, intending to go as far as Tehama. As Paul felt his well beloved element under him again, he answered the characteristic California salute of the good people of Red Bluff, with rockets and bugle and was soon carried out of sight. When the noise of the town was left behind, the newspaper men were surprised to see him throw his paddle in the air, and catch it with a whoop of almost boyish pleasure. He answered their inquiries by saying that he could not restrain his joy at feeling himself at home once more.
Directly after the start, the Baby was discovered to be leaking. Her long sojourn ashore had subjected her to the malevolent attacks of rust, which had eaten a small hole in her bottom that had been overlooked. How to stop the leak was a serious problem. No solder was obtainable. They used some of the tar off the bottom of the reportorial boat; but it would not stick. The dilemma was overcome by a young gentleman in the boat who had been suspected of a tendency to ape the fashions of the effete east. When he blushingly produced a slug of chewing gum, they were satisfied that their suspicions were well founded. The gum proved efficacious, however, and the leak was plugged up.
Tehama was reached about noon, where they were saluted by volleys fired from shot guns, rifles and revolvers. Paul hauled up and sent a messenger for glycerin and oil to use on his face which began to feel the effects of the burning sun. As he lay in the dock answering a shower of questions, about his name, age, fighting weight etc., an old gentleman stepped to the front and said:
"Captain, why don't you come out? Tehama is famous for its widows. They are handsomer and more of them than will be found in any other town of her size in the world, and if you ain't married, I guarantee you will be in an hour after you're ashore."