The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1880-04-07
The Pilot Of the Helena. u

Those among our readers who have
never visited the Gulf States would
think it strange to see in January the
verdure and bloom of spring. And II
was strange sight to two passengers
on the steamer Helena, who were never
weary of gazing at the beautiful villas
on the banks Of the Mississippi, as they
approached New Orleans, embowered
as they were in orange trees, and glow
ing in the rich hues OF tropical vegeta-
tion.
"It is truly lovely scene," said Mrs.
Fairstone, turning to her invalid hus-
band, who had been brought on deck for
the benefit of the warm sunny air.
Yet it must be monotonous to tho
people who live here" she added.
They have none Of those marked
transitions of seasons, which in them
selves are so interesting. should feel
as if I was cheated out Of q portion of
the year without the snow and ice. the
skating, and the cosey ireside Of our
New England home.
. "But, Mr.. Seymour, don't feel safe
on this boat. To be sure, l don't know
much about it, but it seems to me that
it is very heavily loaded. Don't you
see it is below the waters edge. And
the cotton bales are piled up not only on
the guards, but even on deck"
1T does seem a very heavy load.
Seymour" Mr.. Fairstone added; and
q ysung pilot, too," with a melton of
his hand toward the pilot house, where
stood youth of about eighteen.
"Oh, you needn't be at all uneasy"
Mr.. Seymour answered, laughing.
Young as he is, Ben Groves is one of
the best pilots on this river. He's been
at the business ever since he could turn
wheel, and there isn't a turn or dam
ge,ous point On this old river that he is
not familiar with. He is cool and brave,
and never touches liquor. And that is
a rare virtue in steamboat men,
But he's a mere YOUTH persisted
Mr.. Fairstone.
"Old in experience, however; and a
fine, manly fellow, whom every one
likes and respects. He's an orphan not
a relative in the world, he tells me; and
he has had q pretty hard tussel to get
along. 1t shows what stuff he is made
of, that he has come out all right after
passing through such an ord deal."
"But the boat is heavily laden" Mr..
Fairstone persisted, with an invaGd's
pertinacity.
"Oh, we'll, tolerably. But you must
remember that cotton, though a bulky, is
not heavy load. Besides, in case of
accidents, every cotton bale is a life pre-
server. for you can't sink one of them" :"
At that moment the young pilot, hav-
ing been relieved at his post, descended
to the deck, and leaning on the ratings,
looked out on the dusky river.
BOAT lies pretty low in the water, eh,
Benz" said Mr.. Seymour. "Tremen.
dous load, isn't itP"
Ben touched his hat to the lady as he
answered, Il think we had heavier
load, sir, last week. But then we had
fine, calm weather. / believe Captain
Green intends taking in several hundred
bales at Annandale plantation"
Its madness!" cried Mr. Seymour,
angrily. "I'll demonstrate with the
captain. He has no right to take pas
sengers, if he persists in overlooking his
boat in this way"
Ben beckoned Mr.. Seymour to his
side. 81 wouldn't advise you to say
an, thing to him to-day" he said, in a
low voice.
II understand. The old brute is as
drunk as usual, suppose. That's the
reason never travel on his boat, and I
wouldn't be here now if my old school
mate, Mr.. Fairstone, whom / have not
met for ten years, hadn't taken passage
with him at St. Louis. Well. I'll wait
until see whether he really intends
piling on more cotton, and then, if he
does, I'll speak my mind whether he
likes it or not"
"Do you think there's really any dan
ger?" called out Mrs. Falrstone,
troubled by this private conversation.
"We're in no danger at all now,
ma'am," the boy answered, with his
frank, bright smile. 1.-The boat has
often carried heavier load than this,
and hope we shall not have much wind
tonight" He said this rather obviously,
however, for since sunset the wind had
freshened, and was now blowing from
the north in short, fitful gusts.
1--WE should be 50 helpless in danger"
said the lady, trying to smile. I" Mr..
Fairstone is 50 sick; and I'm afraid I
should be sad coward in any emer
gency."
Don't let that trouble you," Ben
said, cheerily. II don't think anything
will happen, and if .here should. Pm q
famous swimmer. I've swum across
the Mississippi where it is wider than
it is here, and I promise not to desert
you, ma'am, if danger does come; but
don't think I shall be called upon to
fulfill my promise"
The lady smiled her thanks, and then
turned to assist her husband, who. find.
ing the air chilly, proposed returning to
the cabin.
She there provided him with a book,
and when he became absorbed in its
contents. she made her way as we'll as
she could through the tiers of cotton
bales on the guards, to the small open
space, commanding view of the river,
on which the shades of night Were
falling.
What a horrible river it isr
she thought, with q shudder. "This
morning I never wearied Of watch
ing its waves, it seemed 50 grand
so sublime, a fit type of eternity. Now
it looks to me like sullen monster, with
gaming Jaws ready to devour u.s."
AS she stood there musing, the whistle
sounded. The boat was making the
Annandale landing, and at any other
time Mrs. Fairstone would have gazed
with interest at the novel scene.
There were two or three large lighted
frrstands on the bank, thro wing theil
red Lighter adark background of forest
Tie dusky forms of men moving back.
ward and forward through walls o.
cotton, shouting. singing, cursing, and
bandying rough jests with the boat
hands, who were rolling the cottor