The Desplaines came along as we were lying at the lower end of the island, and came in to our signal. As we were totally disabled and would have to send to Auburn, N. Y., for new flukes for our propeller, they agreed to help us out, and took us in tow. They ran back to see if they could find the anchor or the sunken boat, but failed to locate either.
Hardin's Point, Ark., Dec. 23, 1903.—Yesterday we ran in here after a fifty-mile run. Tied up quite near the light, which was not well, as the Kate Adams coming near rocked us as badly as any steamer we have yet met. We passed her and her consort, the James Lee, both aground within half a mile of each other, near Mhoon's. Both got off, as the Lee came down today. The river is lower than usual, as the Mhoon gauge showed minus three.
We laid in a good supply of wood, and then Jim and Frank found a lot of cannel coal over on the sand bar, and all day they have been loading up the Desplaines and our boat with it. Some barge has been wrecked there and the small pieces washed away, so that what is left is in large pieces, the smallest taking a strong man to lift. It is curiously water-burnt. The edges are well rounded, so it must have been long under water. A little darkey brought around six silver bass, weighing possibly half a pound each, for which he accepted forty cents. They have a barrel ready for shipment. He called them game fish.
A fine buck shot out of the woods on the other side, followed at a distance by ten hounds, and the deer nearly ran into Woodruff's boat, then swam to this side, where our boys vainly tried to get a shot. An old darkey said he could have been easily drowned by the man in the skiff; but we are glad that species of murder did not offer attractions to Woodruff. The bars are resonant with the honking of the geese. The natives have no cows, chickens, nothing to sell, not even pecans—which here become "puckawns." This evening Jake brought in a fine wild goose, the first we have seen on board as yet. It has blown from the south all day, but is quiet this evening.
Helena, Ark., Dec. 25, 1903.—We left Hardin Point about 9 a. m., with the wind dead ahead, and strong enough to make the beating unpleasant. The front deck is loaded with over a ton of coal, and this seems to make the boat steadier, less inclined to pitch and toss like a cork on the waves.
Christmas day is clear and bright, the sun out, thermometer at 10:30 standing at 55 outside in the shade, and with a little wood fire running up to 90 in the cabin. The Missis is better, her asthma becoming more spasmodic and better controlled by smoke. It rained all last night, and though the caulking did good, there was still some water came in around the surbases. We got some putty to help out the lead. At every stop we pick up something of value to us; usually some good hard firewood. Here we found a section of the side of a boat washed ashore, solid oak, with several bolts a yard long through it. Frank lugged it in and has broken it up into stovewood, and secured the bolts for stakes.
About 2 p. m. we reached Helena, a town of about 25,000. Moored at a distance up the stream, and landed on a muddy shore. The muddy south. We are all coated with the most adhesive of muds, the fineness of the grain rendering it difficult to remove from the clothes. The town is full of negroes, celebrating the holiday; and nearly all carry suspicious looking jugs. The costumes and shouting would make the fortune of a museum in the north. Found it impossible to secure a turkey fit to eat, but got the Missis some fine oysters and a chicken, and bear-steaks for our dinner—at 25 cents a pound. Game is not allowed to be sold in the state. Pity they do not extend the prohibition to whisky.
We made candy, and in the evening had the crew all in, and grabbed for presents in a big basket under a newspaper. We had a happy time, although we were all out on the big river far from home. The Desplaines let their wild goose spoil, and threw it overboard this morning. At 10 a. m. we set out for down the river.