The light was increasing,—the voices grew louder. I guessed that the other canoe must be about abreast of us. “A few minutes more, and we shall be free of her,” I thought to myself, when I observed that Ready was throwing up his nose and stretching out his neck. I tried by a low whisper to tranquillise him. In vain. He ran to the side nearest the other canoe and gave a furious bark. It was immediately responded to by another dog, and a vehement exchange of fierce growls and barkings ensued.
“Who goes there?” shouted some one in a surly voice. “Answer, or I’ll fire.”
“Don’t do that same, friend,” I replied in as calm a tone as I could command. “I’ve just escaped drowning, and I’ve no fancy to be shot. You haven’t heard, then, that the Mighty Go-ahead has gone down, and to the best of my knowledge every soul has perished, except a boy I picked up, and two or three people I saw floating down the stream, and who may possibly have reached the shore in safety.”
“Not very likely that,” observed another man, with a savage laugh. “The Mississippi isn’t famous for helping people to swim ashore.”
The first speaker now inquired how the accident had happened, and how I had escaped. I told him.
“Then it was daylight when the Mighty Go-ahead went down,” remarked another man. “What have you been doing with yourself ever since, stranger?”
I replied that I had spent part of the night up a tree, till, coming down, I had discovered the canoe in which I had embarked, and was on my way back to New Orleans. By this time I could see the other canoe and the people in her. There were three of them. Their dog, a large bloodhound, and mine continued to exchange fierce barks and growls, in spite of our mutual endeavours to silence them. This was an advantage to me. It gave me time to consider what I should say. I was very anxious, not on my own account, but for the sake of Marcus. Still should it come to a tussle, in which our antagonists might not have the advantage of their firearms, I thought very probably Marcus, Peter, and I might come off victorious, and I felt sure that Ready would give some account of the other dog. It was, however, more than possible, should we begin to fight, that our canoes would be upset, and that we might all be drowned together. I did not wish to show the slightest unwillingness to approach the other canoe, lest I might raise the suspicions of the men in her, so we gradually dropped nearer together. The closer we got, the more furiously did our dogs bark. The other dog seemed scarcely able to keep himself in the canoe, as he ran backwards and forwards in an ungovernable rage. I was in hopes that the men had finished questioning me, and would allow me to proceed. I gave a flourish with my paddle, and had made a stroke with it which sent the canoe ahead, when one of the men cried out—
“You don’t happen to have seen a darkie, as you came along, stranger, have you?”
“Not very likely that I should have seen one in the dark. His colour would not be favourable for that,” I replied, evasively.
“But Sharpfangs smells him, though,” exclaimed one of the other men, with a terrible oath. “Seize him!”