"He who hesitates, is lost."
"Paul remained on board. Tom took him to the lookout far ahead on the tow and Paul forgot all about home and gave himself up to the delight of watching the swiftly passing banks while he listened to the swish, swish of the water as it beat against the bows of the barges. He was seated with the men on the watch, who passed the time telling stories and laughing at rough jokes. When it was getting late his big friend Tom, said:
"Now Paul, it's time you turned in. There's your bunk," pointing to a shelf in the dark and damp look-out house. Paul prepared to retire while the men continued their stories. The river-men of that time were rather given to profanity, so their yarns were freely interspersed with oaths. Suddenly Tom said in a loud whisper:
"Dry up! Don't you see the youngster is saying his prayers?"
A hush fell on the group, all looked around. Paul, kneeling on the damp, dirty beam alongside his bunk, was repeating the prayers learned at his mother's knee.
With the return of daylight, the remorseful feeling of a runaway boy came strongly upon him and Paul thoroughly realized how cruel he had been to his dear mother. He begged his friend Tom to get him back or to send a letter home. Tom dissuaded him from returning, but helped him write a letter which was posted at Wheeling, Va. This informed his mother that he was safe and would be taken good care of. Much relieved in mind, Paul was soon enjoying again the beautiful scenery and bright sunshine along the Ohio. His work was to carry the coffee to the forward men on the lookout, and to help in many other little ways.
When nearing Evansville, Indiana, about seven hundred miles below Pittsburgh, a great shock was felt on the fleet, and a shower of coal was sent flying into the air. The cry "Snag! Snag!" was heard on all sides, the big engines of the "Red Lion" were stopped and reversed and the headway of the fleet was checked, as it slowly swung to the shore. All hands rushed to the damaged barge and found that a snag, a sunken log, had penetrated the bottom. Fearing that she would go down and drag other barges with her, she was detached and a line passed to the shore, then luckily near. A crew shoveled the coal from the ugly rent. The snag was cut away and vain attempts were made to pass a tarpaulin under and so stop the hole. Paul stood near his friend Tom, and suggested that he dive under, take a rope with him, and so enable them to pass a canvass below.
"Do you think you can do it without drowning?" said Tom.
"I am certain," was the response.
Tom handed him the end of a rope. Without hesitation Paul sprang into the water and dove under the then sinking barge. The rope was hauled up and another passed to him with which he repeated the operation. Two ropes were fastened to the tarpaulin, two more fastened to the other corners. The canvas was lowered into the river and the men on the opposite side hauled it under the ragged hole. As the canvas covered it, the inflow of water was instantly checked. With a loud cheer, the crew sprang to the pumps. When the water got low enough, the carpenters nailed planks over the hole. The barge and the valuable cargo of coal were saved. In less than three hours from the time the snag had struck, the injured barge was again lashed to the fleet and on her way down the Ohio. Paul was the hero of the hour. The Captain of the "Red Lion" solemnly transferred him from his damp and grimy quarters on the head to the comfortable cabin and pilot house. He confessed to the kind Captain that he had run away from home and how anxious he was about his mother. That day the Captain wrote a glowing letter to Mrs. Boyton and posted it at Paducah, Kentucky. From that time, he took great pleasure in teaching Paul how to steer, and many other arts in river craft. Paul keenly enjoyed this first voyage down the Mississippi. The strange scenes on the river were of deep interest; but he never tired of watching the slaves, either at work in the fields, or at play on the banks of an evening.