Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1906-08-21
RIvERMEN's sUPERsTITIoNs.
Stories From the Logs of Mississippi
Steamboats,.

to the roustabouts on a Mississippi
steamer, there is scarcely man on the
water who is without the vein Of su-
perstition. Any old tar you might
chance to pick up could tell you stories
from his personal experience thai
would convince you Of the intervention
Of supernatural forces. Phantom ships
that Dresage disaster, lights that glow
suddenly on the masts. and dreams thai
have been fulfilled to the minutest de-
tails ne will relate; and there Is not
negro roustabout on the river thai
could be chained to his boat after the
rats had left her.
Only a few years ago, when one OF
the New Orleans packets was making
a landing a little way below st. Louis
a moss backed. gray whlskered raj
marched pompously 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, says the st. Louis Globe
Democrat, and the mate was compelled
to use his axe to prevent all his men
from leaving. 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 IL 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 narrow
channel had difficulty in keeping out of
the way of driftwood, for there must
always be something to worry the man
at the wheel. Toward morning, when
the surface of the stream looked as in
nocent as a babe. suddenly the prov
of the vessel struck something. There
was a ripping sound, terrific shock
and for a few minutes 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.
All the roustabouts said. II 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 1t would
not amount to much, for he would have
taken all the rats with him IL 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 pri-
vate hoodoo that is Of a much higher
order. It is called the pilot house spec
tire, and 1t looks very much like any
other self-respecting ghost. 1t never
presents itself directly in front OF the
pilot, preferring to occupy a position
at his elbow, so that 1t can dodge
around behind him as he turns. On
one occasion the spectre was imper-
sonated by a being who was still In
the flesh, and 1t required the interven-
ing Of a vast concourse Of genuine
spirits to save the pilot from greater
disaster than the real spectre had ever
threatened. 1t happened opposite Fort
Pillow, down the river. an old stone fort
that was made memorable by the mas
sacre Of q whole regiment Of negro
soldiers 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 Whitten had studied physical
geography, and consequently knew all
about marsh lights and the tendency
of smoke to collect in damp ravines,
so the ghosts Of Fort Pillow presented
no terror to him. One night he was
alone in the dark wheelhouse, ap-
preaching the accursed spot, when he
felt that there was some one with him.
He was sure he had seen queer shape
moving noiselessly about. Like the
orthodox spectre, it kept itself carefully
out of his range of vision. Suddenly
he turned and leaped aside, not mo-
ment too soon, for at his back stood
burly negro just in the act Of lifting
corn knife. With that presence OF
mind that comes from long years OF
training, the pilot shouted:
MY God, they're after us! Run for
your life!"
With a howl of terror the would be
assassin 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, seiz-
ed him and asked what he meant by
raising such a disturbance.
"Lemme go, for de Lawd's sake!
Deys after me! Doan you see de mig
gah regimint a-comin' over de water%
and sure enough, there in the ravine
were the ghosts Of the massacred ne
groes executing their lantern dance.
A little cross-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 it was due to his superstition that
passengers and cargo reached st. Louis
in safety.
There Is one story the old rivermen
tell that has in it an element of mysti-
cism that is pathetically beautiful. The
heroes are Will Cribbin and Sam Bow
en-, intimate friends Of Mark Twain In
the days when he was "a-learnin', the
river" Those of us who have followed
the work of the Mississippi river COM
mission know Of the sluggish old riv-
er's tendency to import a farm from
the banks of the Missouri, carry II
down stream a few miles and then
dump 1t into the first convenient deer
water pool. A dam having been thus
formed, more sand is piled around II
until a towhead is constructed. Soon
a crop of willows springs up. and the
towhead Is transformed into an island
In due time the island is named oi
ond ,lonad on the man. TheI