Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-07-28
sUPERsT1TioUs sEAMEN
STORIES FROM THE LOGS OF MIS-
sIssIPPPI STEAMBOATS,.
From the ST Louis Globe Democrat.

| From the ST Louis Globe Democrat.
From the admiral on a man-o'-war to
| the roustabout on a Mississippi steamer,
| there is scarcely a man on the water who
| is without the vein of superstition Any
I old tar you might chance to pick up could
tell you stories from his personal expert
ence that would convince you of the inter-
| vention of supernatural forces. Phantom
| ships that presage disaster lights that glow
| suddenly on the masts and dreams that
| have been fulfilled to the minutest details
| he will relate; and there is nol a negro
| roustabout on the river that could be
| chained to his boat after the rats had left
} her.
| Only a few years ago, when one of the
I AesWx Orleans, paekets-w WAS making a landing
! little Ways below st. Louis. neTnoss-backed
gray whiskered rat marched pompousiy
up the gangplank, paused and lifted himself
on his hind legs, emitting peculiar squeal.
and then scurried up to the bank. In five
| minutes there was CONSERVATION on the
lower deck, and the mate was compelled
tosuse his ak to prevent all his men from
leaving him. That rat, they declared. was
the old man of the boat. They all knew
him.
The thing that happened that night would
in all probability have happened just the
same if Mr.. Rat had made the journey as
usual So at least the rational land lubber
would say. The river was high and the
pilot, relieved of the necessity of picking a
HARROW cndBT6l, Hdu uIIucuiIy III keeping
out of the way of driftwood, for there must
always be something to worry the man at
the wheel. Toward morn ng, when the sur
face of the stream looked as innocent as a
struck something. There a ripping
sound, a terrific shock and for a few min
utes 1t seemed that the boat was seized
with a swamp chill. She had run into a
submerged snag and had torn hole in her
| hull through which you could have thrown
a mule.
''Retsu
All the roustabouts said 1T told you so, -
that is, all those who were still capable
of utterance. No one was drowned, and
before the end of the season the boat was
running again. When the disaster was
found not to be SO great after all the friends
of the old man declared they knew il
would net amount to much, for he would
have taken all the rats with him if the
steamer had been doomed He only left in
order to escape the shock to his nerves.
The rat Is common property with all on
board, but the pilot has his own private
hoodoo that Is of much higher OF der 1t
Is called the pilot house specter and 1t
looks very much like any other self-respect-
ing ghost. 1t never presents itself directly
in front of the pilot, preferring to occupy
a position at his elbow, SC that it can dodge
around behind him as he turns On one
occasion the specter was impersonated by
a being who was still in the flesh and it
required the intervention Of a vast con-
course of genuine spirits to save the piIot
from greater disaster than the real specter
had ever threatened. It happened opposite
Fort Pillow, down the river, an old stone
fort that was made memorable by the mas
sacre of whole regiment of negro SOL
diers during The war.
AT certain seasons of the year lights are
seen fitting about in the marshy ground
below the fort, and during the day a veil
of smoke hugs the earth. Jack Written
had studied physical geography. and conse-
tfx-t n all o1x<1r,T
the tendency of smoke to collect in damp
ravines so the ghosts of Fort Pillow pre-
scented no terror to him. One night he was
alone In the dark wheelhouse. approach
ing the 'accursed spot, when he felt that
there was some one with him. He was
sure he had seen a queer shape moving
noiselessly about. Like the orthodox spec
ter 1t kept itself carefully out OF his range
of vision Suddenly he turned and leaped
aside. not moment too soon, for at his
back stood a burly negro just in the act Of
lifting corn knife. With that presence of
mind that comes from long years of train
ing, the pilot shouted
MY God, they're after US! Run for your
life."
Regiment of Ghosts.
With howl of terror the would-be assas-
sin dropped his crude weapon and plunged
headlong down the narrow stairs landing
In a frightened heap on the hurricane deck
An officer, rushing out OF his apartment
In the Texas, seized him and asked what
he meant by raising such disturbance
.Lemme go, for de Lawd's sake. Dey's
after me. Doan you see de niggah reg
mint acomin' over de water?" And sure
enough, there In the ravine were the ghosts
of the massacred negroes executing their
lantern dance.
A little oss-questioning revealed the
fact that the roustabout had been hired
to murder the pilot and wreck the boat
on the rocks of Fort Pillow, and 1t was due
to his superstition that passengers and car
go reached St Louis In safety.
There ID one story the old rivermen tell
that has Ia It an element OF mysticism
that Is p:ithetically beautiful. The heroes
are WIN l'ribbin and Sam Bowen, Intimate
friends Of Mark Twain in the days when
he was a-learnins the river Those of
us who have followed the work Of the
Mississippi river commission know OF the
sluggish old rivers tendency to import a
farm from the banks of the Missouri. carry
It down stream q few miles and then dump