“‘We are taking a load of stone down to New Orleans, to sell—limestone, first-rate limestone; you don’t want any of it.’
“The boat kept coming on, and somebody in it said, ‘Come to think of it, now, we do want some limestone, and we will come and see how it looks.’
“The captain saw that we were in for a fight, as the fellows were determined to rob us. He brought his rifle up to his shoulder, but before he fired, he said once more,—
“‘Now, I tell you, STOP!’
“The boat did not stop, but kept straight in our direction. The current swung it a little down stream, or they would have been on board of us before we could have done much against them; but luckily their stern swung around, and they had to turn a little against the current. The captain fired, and brought down one of the fellows in the boat. There were six or eight of them, and only five of us. I had a rifle, and I fired, and brought down another.
“The captain’s man fell into the bottom of the boat, but the one I shot threw up his hands, and tumbled backward, so that he went overboard. They began firing, but did not hit any of us—except one ball, which clipped a corner of the captain’s ear.
“By this time they appeared to have had enough of it, and, besides, our shooting deranged their rowing. We were reloading, and before they could get up to the boat, we would have another round of shots for them. They turned down stream, and that was the last we saw of them.
“In the morning we carried a line ashore, and tied it to a tree; and with this line we managed to pull ourselves off. It was tough work, that, and it was noon before we got away. We floated on down the river, and got to New Orleans all right. We sold out our load, and came home.
