Before he reached Mahoning, a big crowd lined the bank awaiting his approach. In the crowd was one of those wise bodies who are never to be fooled and who knows a thing or two about the ways of the world. This individual made himself exceedingly conspicuous in the gathering and confidentially told everybody that would listen to him, that he was smart enough to size up the whole affair and that they were all fools to be taken in by the report that a man was going to swim down such an icy current.
"I'm on to the whole thing," he said, with a real knowing look, "this is gotten up by the newspaper men. They have a block of wood dressed up in a rubber suit and let it float down, while this 'ere Boyton sneaks along the river with the reporters. They can't close my eye, not much."
He was one of the front line on the bank when Paul arrived. He had made up his mind to grab the rubber covered chunk of wood and expose the whole thing to the public, and then it would be seen that he was "jest a leetle smarter than the rest of mankind." As Boyton drew in at that point and walked up on the land, the clever fellow's eyes looked as though they would burst from their sockets, and he beat a precipitate retreat, followed by the derisive shouts of the crowd.
Paul was much interested during a great part of the cold, cheerless trip, in the immense pillars of fire that belch from the natural gas wells that are numerous along the river, which runs through the famous oil country of Pennsylvania.
A reception was tendered him at Kittanning, notwithstanding that little city's misfortune in "not being incorporated," and the mayor delivered a warm address of welcome.
From the moment Paul neared Pittsburgh's suburban places there was a continued ovation until he completed the voyage at the Point, where the confluence of the Alleghany and Monongahela forms the Ohio. Thousands of people jammed the bridges and thousands lined the shores to salute the intrepid voyager. He was picked up at the Point and quickly placed in a carriage in order to avoid the crowd and hurriedly driven to a hotel. He was half frozen and his worn appearance showed how trying had been the trip, which was accomplished in a little less than four days.
After a brief rest, he made ready to resume the voyage. The start was made from the foot of Seventh Street, February 24th. The Ohio was so full of ice that it was difficult to forge ahead. The first day's run was to Rochester, where he hauled up for the night. Owing to his being behind time the band and many people who had been waiting for him, went away, while those who remained occupied their time in patronizing a convenient bar. Mr. James Creelman, of the New York Herald, who had been assigned to write up the voyage, and another newspaper man, accompanied Boyton, making their way in conveyances along the shore. When they arrived at Rochester, Paul was tired and wanted to sleep, so they repaired to a hotel as quickly as possible, and all three were put into one room. It became, noised around that the travelers had arrived and crowds gathered at the hotel. They demanded a speech and the landlord waited on Paul with the information. He was sent back to tell the people that Boyton was in bed and did not wish to be disturbed. Then they wanted him to fire off just one rocket. That was also impossible, because the "Baby Mine," the name of the little tender, had struck a piece of ice before reaching the town and sprung a leak, wetting all the fireworks. The landlord, however, thought he could touch off one of the rockets anyway, so he seized a large detonator and with a red hot poker tried to see how it would work. Finding the fuse, as he thought, too wet, he threw the rocket on the floor and left the room. Directly after, Paul heard a hissing noise and realized that the landlord had succeeded in leaving a live spark in the fuse. He simply drew the bedclothes around himself and let the rocket sizz. It went off with a terrible report, shaking the whole house and frightening his companions out of their wits. The landlord rushed into the room with a "hip, hooray," much delighted.
"That's it," he cried, "that's good," and he yelled again, regardless of the fact that his carpet was on fire and the room terribly littered up.
Between Rochester and Wellsville, Paul had an awful time in an ice gorge. He could hear it cracking and grinding below as though warning him of danger. He succeeded in climbing on a cake which saved him from being carried under, and made his way to clear water on the other side.
Below Steubenville, a native from the West Virginia side rowed frantically out to him.