The Bright Side of Prison Life / Experience, In Prison and Out, of an Involuntary Soujouner in Rebellion

by S. A. Swiggett

Again we traveled monotonously most of the night, seeing only the stars above us and the weird shadows and forms of silent things about. Occasionally one of us would speak, but it was in a low tone, and only when necessary, for our thoughts were far away, and the solemn stillness of the night impressed us with a keen sense of the danger which at any moment might mean recapture or possibly death.

In the very early hours of the morning we reached the Sabine river and the problem of how to get across. It was dark in the river bottom, but the stream was wide enough to let the starlight and the sheen of the water give a fair amount of illumination on the river.

Miller could not swim, and was afraid to trust to our support; so that means of crossing was out of the question.

We could see a canoe fast to the bank on the opposite side, but we could not call up anyone to bring it over and thus take chances of discovery and betrayal.

Miller would not risk a log, although we explained to him how easily we could push him across upon it. If he could have mounted the log and ridden over it would have been all right, but he would not trust himself in the water unless he had to do so, and we, therefore, retired to the brush for a consultation.

We found a thick clump of trees and bushes just a little way up stream, and pushed our way into them until we stopped in alarm at the greatest racket, it seemed, that we had ever heard. It was a minute or two before we realized what it meant, and then it was all we could do to keep our laughter within proper bounds, despite the fact that we feared the noise about us would alarm the people who, we knew, must be upon the other bank of the river. We had walked into a place which was apparently a roosting spot for all the pigeons in Texas, and our entrance had caused a racket in that still night which would have to be heard to be realized.

We were so startled by the unexpected noise that we were well scared until we learned its cause, and then we quietly stole away to a spot on the river bank where our presence would be no intrusion.

While sitting down, discussing the chances for getting across the river and securing the canoe on the opposite side, Rummel and I drew lots to see who should swim over and borrow it, and the pleasure of so doing was thereby allotted to him. He secured a log, to prevent any accident, straddled it, and in due time reached the canoe and brought it over to us. The carrying capacity of the vessel was limited, and, in fact, it was doubtful whether all three could cross in her at once, but we decided to try it.

Miller was fussy and nervous, as he had had no experience in canoe navigation, and this particular canoe did not have an appearance calculated to inspire confidence in one unused to boats and afraid of the water.

We drew the boat along the bank to a low place, where Rummel and I seated ourselves carefully in the canoe, instructing Miller how to enter and sit down without upsetting our calculations and ourselves, but he was too painstaking and careful. He got both feet into the canoe, but that was all. In being exceedingly careful to place his feet in the proper place he forgot about the perpendicular necessities of the case, and about the time his second foot touched the bottom of the boat his head struck the water.