They soon had a roaring fire and Paul, divested of the rubber dress, was drying and thoroughly enjoying himself. The negro was so tickled at having such a guest that he disappeared in the recesses of the forest for some time and returned with a whole delegation of his relatives, including his mother. By the time they had arrived, Paul was dry and prepared to re-enter the water. The old woman was not perfectly satisfied that he was of the earth and she looked upon him with considerable suspicion, mingled with a great deal of fear.
"Boss," she said, edging into a corner and peering over the shoulders of her stalwart son, "yo' 'suredly looks like a suah 'nough man; yo' certn'y isn't got de looks ob de debbil 'bout yo' face; but dey say de debbil's get cow hoofs an' I kaint see yo' feet."
Her son assured her that he had seen Boyton's feet and they were just like any other human beings; but the old woman kept something between herself and the Captain all the time and when he stepped out, he could hear her sigh of thankfulness as he walked off among the trees.
After leaving the cabin, another storm came up and the heavy rain turned to hail. In a short time the light on the Baby Mine was again put out by the waves which also soaked the matches procured from the Negro. In the darkness there was great danger of his being run down by the fleets of empty coal barges that were being towed up from New Orleans to Pittsburgh. Those great tows cover acres of river space and it is a hard matter to tell which way they are going to turn. Observing one of the Government lights which are now placed along the rivers as a guide to mariners, he steered for it. He landed and climbing the ladder to the lantern, was proceeding to get a light for his lamp, when a big dog rushed furiously up and held him treed on the lamp post. The light keeper hearing the victorious barking of the dog, came out with a gun and Paul could not explain his presence there any too quickly. The keeper called off the dog, gave the Captain a supply of matches, who lighted up his bull's eye and was soon forging ahead again. During the small hours of the night, he passed the steamers Osceola, James Howard and Andy Baum, all of which spoke him and inquired if he was in need of anything. At daybreak, the Osceola Belle stopped and gave him some hot coffee and the City of Helena gave him a cheer.
Around the Devil's Elbow, he encountered another furious head wind which required heavy work to go against. So vigorous were his exertions that he stopped at Bradley's, Arkansas, for the night and started next morning at 11 o'clock for Memphis which city he reached at four o'clock. Above Memphis he was met by a fleet of excursion steamers and the sight of his flashing paddle as he approached them was the signal for the firing of a salute from a ten pound parrot gun on the deck of the General Pierson. Miss Jeanette Boswell, one of the reigning belles of Memphis, handed him a banner and made a pleasant address of welcome.
Holding on to the gunwale of the gig, Paul replied in a felicitous manner as he accepted the trophy from her hands. The reception at Memphis was in accordance with the enthusiasm of the excursionists and Paul resumed the voyage Monday afternoon with the well wishes of the populace.
That night another terrific storm almost overwhelmed him. Huge trees were borne to the earth on either side of him as though they were reeds. Rain turned to hail and the river was whitened by the icy stones. So great was their forge that he was compelled to stand up in the stream to shield his head and face with the broad blade of his paddle and his knuckles were badly bruised. In a short time he experienced a sensation of leaking. He thought the hail stones had cut his dress; but next morning, landing on a sandbar, he found himself as dry as a pebble, the leaking sensation having been caused by the sudden change in the temperature of the water owing to the melting of the hail stones. In the darkness, he missed the cut off, by which he could have saved fifteen miles of paddling, and went around Walnut Bend. At daybreak, he saw a negro on the bank and inquired his whereabouts.
"Yo'se in de bend shoah 'nough Cap'en; but I'se pow'ful glad yo' missed the cut off, cause I wanted to see yo' awful bad."
Paul did not sympathize with the darkey's joy and that unnecessary fifteen miles was the hardest pull of the entire trip, to his mind.
That morning was very lonely along the river and he was still lecturing himself for missing the convenient cut off, when away around a distant bend he could hear the beating paddles of an approaching steamboat. That animated him and he pulled with renewed vigor until he met a boat which was loaded with excursionists from Helena, Arkansas. He hauled up alongside and the excursionists begged him to go ashore and visit their city. He was feeling sore and declined the kind invitation; other boats came up until he was surrounded. They insisted earnestly and so kindly that he should stop oft at Helena, that he finally consented to do so and rest a couple of hours, as his watch and lamp were smashed and that would give him an opportunity to get them fixed. He was enthusiastically welcomed to the city, and a committee of citizens was appointed to get anything he might want. The mayor and several other officials requested him to remain that night and deliver a lecture. He declined to do so, because his wardrobe had been shipped on ahead to Vicksburg, and he had nothing to wear but a suit of heavy underclothing and the rubber dress.