The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1875-04-08

/ till our nose was almost at the very
spot. Some OF these chutes were ut
/ ter solitudes. The dense, untouched
4 FOREST overhUng both hanks of the
crooked little crack. and one could (
/ believe that human creatures had
never intr1ded there before. The
swinging grape-vines, the grassy
hooks and vistas glimpsed as We swept
by, the Towering creepers waving I
their red blossoms from the tops of
dead trunks, anG all the spendthrift /
richness of the forest foliage, were |
wasted and thrown away there. The |
chutss were lovely places to steer in /; |
they were deep, except at the head ;
the current was gentle under the
points the water was absolutely
! dead, and the invisible banks so bluff
( that where the tender willow thickets
projected you could bury your boats
brOadside in them as you tore along,
and then you seemed fairly to fly.
Behind either island We found
wretched little farms, and wretcheder
little log-cabins there were crazy
rail fences sticking a foot or two above
1 the water, with one or two jeans-clad,
hills-raeked. yeliow-faced male mfser-
abies roOstiDg on the top rail, elbows
on knees, jaws in hands, grinding to-
bacco and dischRrging the results at
floating chips through the crevices
left by lost milk-teetts; while the rest
of the family and the few farm ami
mails were huddled together in an
empty wood fiat riding at her moor
/ ings close at hand. In this flatboat
/ the family would have to cook and
eat and sleep for q lesser or greater
number of days (Or possibly weeks, |
until the river should fall two or three |
feet and let them get hack to their log
cabin and their chills again-chills |
being a merciful provision of an all |
wise Providence to enable them to |
! take exercise without exertion. And
this sort of watery camping out was a !
thing which these people were rather |
| liable to be treated to couple of times |
! q year by the December rise out OF
( the Ohio, and the June rise out of the |
Mississippi. Aud yet these were
kindly dispensatiOns, for they at least |
enabled the poor things to rise from |
| the dead now and then, and look upon |
! life when q steamboat went by. Tney |
appreciated the blessing, too, for they |
spread their mouths and eyes wide |
open, and made the most of these Oc- |
casiOns. Now what could these |
banished creatures find to do to keep |
from dying Of the blues during the |
low-water season
Once, in one of these lovely island |
chutes, we found our course complete |
ly bridged by great fallen tree. This
will serve to show how narrow some |
of the ehutes were. The. passengers |
had an hours recreation in a virgin |
wilderness, while the boat hands |
chopped the bridge away; for there |
was no such thing as turning back,
you comprehend.
From Cairo to Baton Rouge, when |
the river is over its banks, you have
no particular trouble in the night, for
the thousand-mile wall Of dense forest
that guards the two banks all the way
is only capped with farm or wood
yard opening at intervals, and so you
can't "get out of the river" much easi-
er than you could get out Of fenced
| lane but from Baton Rouge TO New
!. Orleans it is a different matter. The
triver is more than mile wide and
very deep-as much as 200 feet, in pla-
ces. Both banks, for good deal over q
/ hundred miles, are shOrn OF their
timber and bordered by continuous
sugar plantations, with only here and
there a scattering sapling or row of
ornamental China trees. The timber
Is shorn eff clear to the rear of the
plantations from two to four miles.
| When the first frost threatens to come
the planters snatch off their crops in
hurry. When they have finished
4 grinding the cane, they form the re-
fuse of the stalks (Which they call
bagasse) into great piles and set fire
to them, though in other sugar coun-
tries the bagasse is used for fuel in
the furnaces of the sugar mills. Now
the piles of damp bagasse burn slow
ly, and smoke like Satan's own
kitchen.
An embankment ten or fifteen feet
/ high guards both banks of the M;ssis-
sippi all the way down that lower end
of the river, and this embankment is
set back from the edge of the shore
from ten to perhaps hundred feet,
according 10 circumstances say thiT-
/ ty or forty feet, as 4 general thing.
Fill that whole region with an i'm
| penetrable gloom of smoke from q
hundred miles of burning bagasse
piles, when the river is over the
| banks, and turn a steamboat lose
along there at midnight and see how
she will feel. And sea how you will
feel, too You find yourselfaway out
in the midst of a vague dim sea, that
| is shoreless, that fades out and lOoses
itself in the murky distances for you
cannot discern the thin rib of en-
bankment, and you are always imag-
lining you see a struggling tree when
i you don't. The plantations them
selves are transformed by the smoke,
aud look like part of the sea. All
through your watch you are tortured
with the exquisite misery of uncer-
/ tainty. You hope you are keeping in
4 the river, but you do not know. All
that you are sure about is that you are
\ likely TO be within six feet of the bank
and destruction, when you think you
are good half mile from shore. And
you are sure, also, that if you chance
suddenly to fetch up against the em-
bankment aud tOpple your chimneys
overheard, you wiIl have the small
comfort of knowing that it is about
what you We're expecting to do. One
/ of the great Vicksburg packets darted
out into a sugar plantation one night,
at such time, and had to stay there
a week. But there was no novelty
about it it had often been done be-
fore.
| thought had fiCished this num-
Der, but | wish to add n curious thing,
4 while it is 10 my mind. 1t is only rel
levant in that it is connected with
plotting. There used 10 be an excel
lent pilot on the river, a Mr.. y, who
l.was a sOmnambulist. 1t was said
that IL his mind was troubled about a
bad piece of river, he was pretty sure
to get up and walk i'll his sleep and do
strange things. He was once fSStw-
pilot for q trip or two with George
i E, on great New Orleans pas
senger packet. During considerable
part Of the first trip George was un-
easy, but got over it by aud by, as Y.
seemed content to. stay in his bed
when asleep. Late one night the boat
i was approaching Helena, Ark. 7; the
I water was low, and the crossing above
the town in a very blind and tangled
condition. Y. had seen the crossing
since E had, and as the night was
particularly drizzly, sullen, and dark,
E. was considering whether he had
not better have y. called to assist in
running the place, when the door
opened and Y. walked in. Now on
very dark nights light is deadly enc
my to plotting you are aware that
if you stand in lighted room on such
night you caunot see things in the
street to any purpose (; but if you put
, out the lights and stand in the gloom
you can make out objects in the street
pretty well. So, on very dark nights,
I pilots do not smoke; they allow no
. fire in the pilOt-hOuse stove if there is
a crack which can allow the least ray
10 escape; they order the furnaces TO
be cartained with huge tarpaulins and
the sky-lights to be closely blinded.
Then no light whatever issues from
! the boat. The undefinable shape that
now entered the pilot house had Mr..
. KS voice. This said
! "Let me take Ter, Mr.. E.; I've
seen this place since you have, and IL
! is so crooked that reckon l can run
it myself easier than could tell you
how to DO it.n
SIT is kind OF you, and swear IAN
! willing i haven't GOT another drop