At two o’clock, the captain asked the mate how we were getting on.
“Oh, pretty glibly, Sir!” replied the mate; “we can scarcely tell what headway we are making, for we are obliged to keep the middle of the river, and there is the shadow of a fog rising. This wood seems rather better than that we took in at old yellow-face’s, but we’re nearly out again, and must be looking for more. I saw a light just ahead on the right—shall we hail?”
“Yes, yes,” replied the Captain; “ring the bell, and ask ’em what’s the price of wood up here. I’ve got you again; here’s double kings.”
I heard the bell and the pilot’s hail:
“What’s your price for wood?”
A youthful voice on the shore answered:
“Three and a quarter!”
“Hollo!” ejaculated the captain, who had just lost the price of two cords to the pilot, the strangers suffering some at the same time, “three and a quarter again! Are we never to get to a cheaper country? Deal, Sir, if you please—better luck next time.”
The other pilot’s voice was again heard on deck:
“How much have you?”