The Story of Paul Boyton Part 29

"I hope," said he, "that you will be pleased to command the guard that escorts me back. I a.s.sure you that the society of the beautiful senoritas at the capital is far preferable to me than to proceed with the wet, cold work I have been sent to do."

The officer was polite enough to regret that he could not accompany the guard.

"I would be sorry to see a brave officer like yourself get into any trouble over this," continued Paul. "You know how anxious your superiors are to have the wires repaired in order to re-establish communication with Chile, though I am sure I do not fancy the work and am well satisfied to have my journey interrupted."

The officer took the pa.s.s again and carefully ran his eyes over it, as Boyton, apparently in the most happy humor, puffed away at his cigar.

"I think you are all right," said the officer at last, returning the paper, "you can go on."

Paul's heart gave such a thump of joy that he was afraid the Chilean would hear or see it; but the latter observed nothing. With a.s.sumed reluctance, he bade the officer good night, mounted his mule and rode slowly away. As soon as he was out of sight and hearing, he dug his heels into the mule's sides and was galloping swiftly across the pampas toward the coast. He could detect no signs of pursuit and in about an hour he heard the sweetest music that had ever soothed his ears.

It was the booming of the breakers near Ancon.

Riding close to the edge of the cliff, he stripped everything off of the mules and with a "good bye, old fellow, you have served me well," and a gentle pat on the neck, he turned its head toward the pampas and it scampered away. The next work was to fling all the wire and telegraph instruments into the sea. He then donned the dress, and with his paddle firmly jointed, began descending the cliff. Reaching the water in safety, he plunged right into the breakers and paddled with all his strength from the sh.o.r.e. Island after island was left behind and at daybreak he was to the seaward of most of them. He selected the one that stood furthest out and steered for it. It appeared like a huge rock standing straight up out of the water; but he found a narrow strip of sandy beach on which to land, being escorted by a whole troop of seals which offered him no harm, however. Climbing to a high ledge, he removed his suit and found that from his perch he commanded a good view and could see the smoke of the steamer as soon as it left the harbor of Callao.

The sun came up with a dull, red color promising a hot day. By nine o'clock, the heat was so intense that he began to suffer from thirst and then discovered that he had made one grievous mistake. He had neglected to supply himself with fresh water. After partaking of a little breakfast, he began a tour of exploration in the hope of finding some cave in which he would be sheltered from the rays of the sun; but none was to be found and he only kept cool by wading into the sea at intervals, yet such immersions increased his thirst. All day long he scanned the horizon in the direction of Callao, looking in vain for the black smoke of the steamer; but hour after hour pa.s.sed and there was no sign of it.

During the afternoon he found a shelf of rock under which there was some shelter from the heat. He sat under its shade suffering terribly from the intensity of thirst. Then his mind was somewhat disturbed by seeing a tremendous cloud of pelicans headed for the island. They circled round arid round and lit in a confused ma.s.s on the narrow beach. There were several thousand of them and he gazed at them with interest. They went through a regular drill, in squads, which is the habit of those queer but unclean birds. The smell from them was almost overpowering.

They would stand straight up in long rows, looking wise and solemn, while two very dignified birds marched up and down in front of the lines for all the world like military grandees reviewing a dress parade. Their drill must have occupied at least two hours, then the ranks were broken and they went into the sea in search of fish.

Paul's suffering from thirst became almost intolerable, his tongue was swollen and his mind was being affected. At last he saw the smoke of the steamer as the sun was going down. He was seized with an idea that she would miss him in the darkness and he decided to return and give himself up if she did, preferring to be shot rather than to die of thirst on that desolate island. He put on his dress and paddled out until he could see by the steamer's mast that she was head on, then he laid still and awaited her coming. Close and closer she approached until he could see the lookout. He waved his paddle vigorously and they saw him. To his intense joy, she slowed down, a boat dropped from her side and he was soon on board and hurried below much to the amazement of the pa.s.sengers.

He was received kindly by the Captain and made comfortable. Everything had been attended to by his friends, all his luggage, even to the pets were aboard.

The steamer only touched at one more Peruvian port, Paita, and while they stopped there, Paul went below and turned coal heaver; but on account of the wires being destroyed no news of his escape had reached that port and no search was made. Next morning they steamed up the river to Guayquil and he felt himself free.

To Panama was but a short run and the twenty-five dollars in gold that he had to pay for his trip across the isthmus from there to Aspinwall, left him almost penniless. At Aspinwall he found the same steamer on which he had sailed from New York, the Crescent City, and he put up his baggage for a pa.s.sage home on her. No trouble was experienced in making such an arrangement for the trip north, for as soon as the Captain learned who he was and the straits he was in, he was received with open arms and every attention paid him.

Eight days after, Paul stood in Broadway, New York, without a cent in his pocket, instead of the hundreds of thousands he had antic.i.p.ated earning when he cast his fortunes with Peru. But he felt rich in the joy of his mother and family, who welcomed him as it were from the grave.

Kiefer, who had gone south with him, succeeded in making his escape for the mountains where he remained several years, collecting antiquities and shipping them north. He died of consumption soon after his return to the United States in 1889.

CHAPTER XX.

In less than a month after his return from South America, Boyton was in St. Paul, Minnesota, ready to start on a voyage of one thousand and eight miles down the Mississippi river to Cairo, this trip being undertaken in order to complete the length of that river from source to mouth. Though there were no adventures of extraordinary interest in this voyage, it was the stormiest one he ever encountered; and he was diverted on the way by two peculiar characters that accompanied him, being almost continually provoked to mirth by the humorous incidents which befell them. His companion was a celebrated German artist, Dr.

C., who was on his first visit to America, as a representative of that famous publication, the Gartenlaube. The Doctor was a scholarly gentleman, but being unacquainted with American characteristics, which had been sadly misrepresented to him by some of his countrymen who were inclined to joke, he had an exaggerated notion as to how he must dress and act for such a trip as he was going to take. When he was at St.

Paul, he thought he was on the skirts of civilization and it behooved him to appear in such a manner as not to be imposed on as a novice. So when he was presented to Boyton, he was gaily attired in a buckskin suit, with revolver and bowie knife tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, looking rather out of place with the scholarly spectacles that bridged his nose. He really outdid the most fanciful cowboy of the far western ranches. Such an outfit he imagined just the thing for a trip among the wild characters on the Upper Mississippi. The other member of the party was a broad nosed, Herculean negro whom Paul hired to pull the row boat he had purchased for the Doctor's accommodation.

Boyton found that the scenery on the Upper Mississippi was more beautiful than on any river he had yet traversed. There was not that startling grandeur which characterized the sh.o.r.es of some of the rivers; but it was beautiful--with high b.u.t.tes and pleasant sh.o.r.es, while the people throughout its entire length are exceedingly hospitable. If the loveliness of this river were better known, it would be more generally visited by tourists in search of rest or recreation. On the morning of May nineteenth, 1881, the start was made, the usual crowd of people lining the banks to see them off.

Several of the Doctor's enthusiastic friends presented him with a keg of beer. It was placed in his skiff. Unfortunately, they forgot to give him a faucet. All that day was very hot, and the entire party longed for a drink from its cooling depths. Late that evening a steamer, towing a raft, came slowly down the river. Paul told the negro to pull alongside and have the raftsman open the keg. They had no faucet but they had an auger, with which they willingly started to bore into its head. A moment afterward a white fountain shot to the sky and all hands held their hats to catch the descending shower.

They ran along without other adventure, until the second day out, when Lake Pipin was reached, where they were met by a heavy head wind and an enormous sea, that almost swamped the Doctor's boat; but they hauled up at Lake City in safety, where they pa.s.sed the night.

The first reception accorded the voyagers was at La Crosse, where they were greeted with a blaze of fireworks and the roaring of cannon.

Below La Crosse as they were swinging along between the willow-laden banks of the beautiful river, whose waters, unlike the thick yellow of its lower half, where it partakes of the character of the Missouri, are clear and pure, the Doctor developed a taste for hunting and asked permission to use the shotgun that had been stowed away in the boat. Boyton readily consented; but seeing that the Doctor knew nothing about handling the weapon, which was an improved breech loader, some pains were taken to instruct him in the use of it. It looked so simple that the Doctor thought he had mastered it without any trouble at all.

The negro, however, was not so confident and eyed the gun in the Doctor's hands with great suspicion.

"Ise not sayin' nun' Cap'en" he remarked to Paul, "but that man aint been rised aroun' whar da do much shootin', suah's yo' libe. Dar aint no tellin' whar he gwine fur to pint that weepin' an Ise running chances in hyah wid him. Dat's right, Cap'en."

He was a.s.sured that there would be no danger; but he was far from being satisfied and kept an anxious eye on the Doctor's movements.

After further instructions and admonishing the Doctor to be very careful, Boyton resumed his paddle and was soon ploughing ahead of the boat. He had not proceeded a mile when he heard a report of the gun and turning, saw both the Doctor and the darkey gazing intently into the sky at a gull that was sailing leisurely around a half mile or so above them. The Doctor nervously rubbed his gla.s.ses and looked again, at a loss to determine why the bird did not fall. When the boat dropped alongside, Paul explained to the astonished Doctor that a shotgun only carried a short distance and he could not expect to hit anything so far away.

As the sun was sinking that evening, Boyton heard the negro yelling:

"Great Lawd, come hyah Cap'en! Oh, my soul, come quick! quick! Dis hyah Dutchman gwine t' kill me suah!"

Wheeling around, Paul witnessed the most ludicrous spectacle. The Doctor, with the muzzle of the gun turned on the negro, was excitedly hammering a cartridge into the breech, while the negro was stretched on his back nearly over the gunwale of the boat, with the broad sole of his foot held as a shield toward the muzzle, yelling at the top of his voice. The doctor saw some blackbirds in the bushes and not remembering how to put a cartridge in the gun, was pounding it in with the handle of his bowie knife. Of course it was liable to explode at every stroke, and the poor negro knew the danger.

After some expostulation, the Doctor was persuaded to put the gun away.

Below Dubuque, the weather grew stormy and so continued for the rest of the voyage. They were treated to some marvelous lightning effects. Its forked tongues lapped the water in the most eccentric manner--fearful, though intensely beautiful. The poor darkey cowered in fright on the bottom of the boat with covered eyes, while Paul and the Doctor were so impressed with the grandeur of the manifestation, as to be unmindful of the danger. After that, whenever dark ma.s.ses of clouds began to roll up in the sky and the wind commenced to sough mournfully through the willows, no power on earth could prevent the darkey from pulling in sh.o.r.e and staying there until the storm had pa.s.sed.

"Ole Mastah above kin hit me evah w'en he wants to; I knows dat; but den Ise gwine to climb fur the shoah foah dat lightnin' play tag aroun'

dis n.i.g.g.ah's head agin, dat's shoah as yo' libe," he explained to Paul after one of his hurried retreats into the bushes.

Twelve days after the start the party arrived at Davenport. Paul had been greatly r.e.t.a.r.ded in his progress on account of false channels and sloughs into which he wandered and through which he paddled many weary miles. Early one morning, emerging from one or these sloughs just as the sun was rising, he was treated to a concert such as he had never heard. The music seemed to him almost heavenly--so exceedingly beautiful that he remained motionless on the water, charmed by the entrancing melody. It burst from the throats of thousands of birds on one side of the river, and the refrain was taken up by a swelling chorus of feathered warblers on the other sh.o.r.e. It was a concert that paid him for the labor of a thousand miles of paddling.

At Davenport, and in fact at all the river towns, the party was tendered enthusiastic receptions. All the members of the boat clubs at Burlington rowed up to meet them and formed an interesting flotilla into the city. They frequently encountered rafts of logs, containing millions of feet of lumber. The raftsmen were always glad to meet Paul and converse with him as long as he would paddle alongside.

Below Davenport, the Doctor's pa.s.sion for hunting was again displayed, much to the disgust of his dusky boatman. He insisted on firing at some blackbirds and the promise of a quarter to the negro, persuaded that worthy to row him close in sh.o.r.e. He took deliberate aim and fired into a tree that was covered with birds. Not one of them fell; but a cow that had been drinking among the willows, ran wildly up the bank with her tail in the air, bellowing mournfully. The darkey received the promise of another twenty-five cents for pulling away from the scene as fast as he could. It had usually been Paul's complaint that the boat was too far behind; but after the cow incident, it was just the other way. They were always so far ahead that it was hard to keep them in sight. The darkey was bribed to this unwonted exertion by presents of neckties and other fancy articles which the Doctor sacrificed from his wardrobe.

The latter had visions of that cow's owner in vengeful pursuit.

While paddling along one morning, the boat being quite a distance below him, Boyton heard a terrific fusillade from the gun. He thought the Doctor was shooting away all the cartridges. The boat was surrounded by smoke and Paul drove ahead to see what was going on. As he drew near, he saw the doctor holding a small object in his hand while a look of pride glowed on his countenance. It was a little squirrel.

"See what I have killed," enthusiastically cried the Doctor in German.

"Yaas," chimed in the darkey, "dat squi'l him swimmin' de ribber an' de Doc, he shot an' shot an' den I kill um wid de oah."

After leaving Quincy, the Doctor again distinguished himself, by firing into some ducks that he saw in a slough on the Missouri side. The negro had encouraged him to shoot and to his intense satisfaction, he accidentally killed one. He made the darkey row in and pick it up, and a few moments later, a gruff voice was heard on the bank:

"Pull ash.o.r.e; n.i.g.g.e.r."

Looking up they saw a gigantic Missourian with his rifle pointed at them and the negro pulled in as though he was trying to escape another lightning storm.

"Mister; I want six bits fur that er pet duck of mine," the man remarked to the Doctor.

The price demanded was promptly paid and the Doctor was glad to get away from that wicked looking weapon which the Missourian handled as though familiar with its use. After that adventure, he lost all interest in hunting.

On June nineteenth, the party pulled into St. Louis, where they were welcomed by a crowd of about thirty-thousand people, and the screaming of whistles was something deafening. The Mayor was on one of the steamboats and extended Paul the freedom of the city. He was hospitably entertained, and after a short visit, began the last stretch of his journey, two-hundred miles to Cairo, which he intended to finish without a stop; the longest continuous run he ever made. On this trip he had a great deal of trouble with the boat as both the Doctor and the darkey would persist in sleeping, after they had been on the route a short time. On one occasion, after the boat had been lost from him for a couple of hours, Boyton saw something limping down the river in a lopsided manner, which he could not believe was the boat; but on its nearing him, he saw it was the Doctor pulling away as though his life depended on it, with one oar and a little staff to one end of which was fastened a small German flag. Both occupants had gone to sleep and lost an oar, and the Doctor had utilized the flag staff that had been proudly placed at the boat's stern. They arrived safely at Cairo, forty-one hours from St. Louis. The Doctor poorer in clothes and the darkey much richer in wardrobe, parted with each other and Paul at this point.

At Cairo, Boyton met a friend who was going up the Mississippi to St.

Paul on his own private steamer, a handsome little boat fitted up with every luxury. He invited Paul to accompany him and knowing no more congenial way to rest, he consented. They made the trip by easy stages stopping at places where good hunting promised and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The little steamer was full of pets they picked up at various points; c.o.o.ns, foxes, opossum, crows and squirrels.

Above Burlington they ran across somewhat of a snag in the shape of a pilot's union. They were compelled to hire a pilot to see them up the river, (though they were perfectly able to handle the boat themselves), or be compelled to pay a fine of fifty dollars. They were hauled up at the wharf of an Iowa village when they heard this, and rather than have any trouble, they concluded to hire a pilot. On inquiry, they learned that there was no pilot in the village except the editor of the weekly paper. He had a license and could do the work if he was so inclined.