The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1867-02-06

|
Republic, the last bell has sounded, the
last belated trunk has been trundled over
the plank. and we are of, the calliope
screaming Dixie like ten thousand devils,
and the crowds on the bank waving US bon
royage.
This trip the boat was very crowded, and
at supper the effect of the line of small ta-
bles, filled with officers in uniform, ladies
tastefully dressed, and sprinkling of
homespun coats-all reflected in the long
mrror-was very bright and gay. After
meals there is generally a promenade on
the upper decks-sans souci-where peo-
pie talk, smoke, inspect each other, and
flirt. Then they adjourn to state room,
saloon or card-room, or read to kill time.
for the Alabama is anything but a pictur-
esque stream, with its low marshy banks.
only varied by occasional "slides and
negro quarters.
The night was splcndidly clear, the
moon bright as day; and Styles and l, aE.
ter seeing the "COlonel we'll tucked in,
staid on deck to scrape acquaintance with
the pilot, and the small. seedy Frenchman,
who oficiated at the calliope.
Thar's the Senator, and she's gainin
on u.s." said the pilot, as we walked for
ward, pointing to thin column of smoke
rising out of the trees just ahead of us.
How far astern?"
"a matter of about two miles around
that point"
"Splendid night for race" muttered
Styles.
"Will she overtake us, captain?'
"Wall, maybe !" replied the old river
dog, while the most professional grin shot
over his hard, wooden features Especial
ly ef ease up this ar old gal.''
Ha, Jones now we'll have it. We
won't turn in now," chuckled Styles, bang
ing me on the back.
Almost imperceptibly our speed slack
ened, and the thin, dark column crept
nearer and nearer round the trees, on the
point in our wake, till at last the steamer
burst into sight, not pistol-shot astern.
There's sharp click of the pilots bell,
gasping throb, as if our boat took deep,
long breath, and, just as the Senator makes
our wheel, we dashed on again, with every
stroke of the piston threatening to rack our
frail fabric into shreds.
The river here is pretty wide, and the
channel deep and clear. The Senator
pulls ahead in gallant style, now gaining
our quarter, now boats length, astern-
both engines roaring and snorting like an
CRY hippopOtami, and both vessels rocking
and straining till they seem to paw their
way through the churned water. Talk Of
horse FACING and rouge ct noir! But, ex-
cept the wild delirium of cavalry charge
-as described by those who have been in
one-there is no excitement that can ap-
proach boat racing on the routhern rivers.
One by one the people pop up ladders and
throng the hurricane deck and rails
First, the unemployed deck hands; then
stray gentleman or two, and finally la
dies and children, till the rail is full and
every eye is anxiously strained to the op.
posite boat.
She holds her own wonderfully we'll,
considering the reputation of ours and al
each burst, when she seemed to gain on US,
the whole crowd hold their breath, and as
she drops of again, there is deep-drawn,
gasping sigh Of relief, like winds in the
pines. Even the "Colonel" has reused
himself from dreams of turtle at the ST.
Charles, and red fish at Pensacola, and
has come on deck in a shooting jacket and
glengary cap, that makes him look like
jaunty Fiasco. He leans over that stern
rail, putting his Habana in long, easy
whifs as we gain length, or sending out
short, angry puffs at the Senator as she
creeps up Oh US.
Foot by foot we gain steadily until the
gap is widened to three or four boat
lengths, though the Senator piles her fires
till the shores behind her, on each side
glow from their reflection, and her decks
now black with anxious lookers-on, send
up cheer after cheer as she snorts defiantly
after us.
Suddenly the bank seems to loom uI
right under our larboard bow!
We have cut it too close
Two sharp, vicious clinks of the bell.-
Our helm goes hard down, and the engines
stop with sullen jar, and catch kissing
curse break through the set teeth OF thu
pilot.
A yell of wild triumph from the Sena
tors deck On she came in gallant style
shutting up the gap and passing US like {
race horse, before we can swing into th'
channel and recover headway. 1t is ,
splendid sight as the noble boat passes US
her black hulk standing out in the cleal
moonlight, against the dim, gray chimney
snorting out volumes Of massive blacl
smoke that trails our fat behind her from
her great sweep. Her side towards US i
crowded with men, women and children
and hats, handkerchiefs and hands arr
swung madly about, to aid the efforts 0
the hundred voices.
Close down to tho waters edge-scarc
above the line Of the foam she cuts-he
lower deck lies black and defined in th
shadow of the great mass above it,
Suddenly it lights up with lurid glare
fash as the furnace doors are thrown wild
open, and in the hot glare the negro stok
ers-their stalwart frames jetty black