The Story of Paul Boyton Part 36

"Look here," he said, struggling to keep his eyes open, "where did you get that tobacco?"

"In Little Rock."

"Whew! its stronger than the falls of the Arno," and turning over, he slept, perhaps to dream of red oak tobacco sticks, and bare legged boys with green hands, killing worms. He succ.u.mbed to "Arkansaw natural leaf."

Next morning they pulled out for Pine Bluff, the last run of the voyage.

Above the city, the steamer Woodson met them with a party of excursionists on board. Capt. F. G. Smart, of Jefferson, was detailed to deliver an address of welcome to Boyton as soon as they met him. The Captain was an enthusiastic admirer of the voyager and had taken numerous doses of "Arkansaw lightning" for the purpose of inspiring his oratorical powers. As Boyton swung into sight, the Captain sprang upon something laying near the rail and throwing both hands up as though a highwayman had him covered with a Winchester, he began his speech.

"Standing here on this sack of salt," he roared, "I say standing here on--"

"Git offen me," yelled a colored roustabout who had laid down and upon whom the Captain had planted himself.

"Get out of my way then," shouted the orator, "don't throw yourself in the att.i.tude of a rostrum unless you have credentials. I say, ladies and gentlemen, we have a.s.sembled on this boat, to come up to meet a man coming down. It is my principle never to shove a man down; but on this occasion, I stand merely as a spectator. As a rule, a man goes down on whisky, but this man goes down on water. May we all meet on that beautiful sh.o.r.e, where every man can show a life saving suit of clothes."

The Captain's voice was drowned in a round of cheers and the sound of the steamboat's whistle, as she was headed down stream to escort Boyton to Pine Bluff, where he was warmly received, completing his voyage of four-hundred miles in six days.

Again embarking on his friend's little steamboat, a cruise down the Mississippi to the mouth of Red river followed, where some time was spent in hunting and then the boat was headed for New Orleans.

For two years following, with the exception of a run down the rapids of the James river at Richmond, Boyton was engaged in business. During that time he became an agent of the Haytien insurgents, as a purchaser of supplies and he barely escaped going out on the ship Lapatrie, which was captured and all on board executed by order of Hippolyte.

In 1884, Paul decided to give up his adventurous life, and settle down.

He continued in business on sh.o.r.e until 1886, when his health became so affected by confinement that he was advised to resume his old outdoor life for a time, to recuperate. So he concluded to limber his joints with another voyage. On looking about for a course, he found he had made all the rivers in America that promised adventure, except those of the far west. He went to San Francisco and prepared for a run down the Sacramento from Red Bluff, four-hundred and fifty miles.

He entered the water, March 26th. It was a beautiful morning and the people from the town and surrounding country gathered to see him start.

A boat load of reporters accompanied him, intending to go as far as Tehama. As Paul felt his well beloved element under him again, he answered the characteristic California salute of the good people of Red Bluff, with rockets and bugle and was soon carried out of sight. When the noise of the town was left behind, the newspaper men were surprised to see him throw his paddle in the air, and catch it with a whoop of almost boyish pleasure. He answered their inquiries by saying that he could not restrain his joy at feeling himself at home once more.

Directly after the start, the Baby was discovered to be leaking. Her long sojourn ash.o.r.e had subjected her to the malevolent attacks of rust, which had eaten a small hole in her bottom that had been overlooked. How to stop the leak was a serious problem. No solder was obtainable. They used some of the tar off the bottom of the reportorial boat; but it would not stick. The dilemma was overcome by a young gentleman in the boat who had been suspected of a tendency to ape the fashions of the effete east. When he blushingly produced a slug of chewing gum, they were satisfied that their suspicions were well founded. The gum proved efficacious, however, and the leak was plugged up.

Tehama was reached about noon, where they were saluted by volleys fired from shot guns, rifles and revolvers. Paul hauled up and sent a messenger for glycerin and oil to use on his face which began to feel the effects of the burning sun. As he lay in the dock answering a shower of questions, about his name, age, fighting weight etc., an old gentleman stepped to the front and said:

"Captain, why don't you come out? Tehama is famous for its widows. They are handsomer and more of them than will be found in any other town of her size in the world, and if you ain't married, I guarantee you will be in an hour after you're ash.o.r.e."

The widows present shyly smiled.

After being supplied with the glycerin, he left the newspaper men and struck away alone. He kept on all night and pa.s.sed Chico bridge early next morning. Before sun-rise he noticed a tree that was strange and wonderful. It was full of what appeared to be large white cl.u.s.ters of feathery-like blossoms, which swayed to and fro as though alive, yet not a breath of air was stirring. His wonder at the beautiful spectacle was so great, that he ceased moving the paddle and drifted with the current toward the snowy looking tree. When opposite, he saw it was a roost for some sort of water fowl. He shouted and a cloud of white heron rose in the air and soared away.

He now entered a stretch of river that was very lonely. The ranches were far away from the banks. The sand bars were full of geese, ducks and heron, while many buzzards sailed gracefully above. He noticed one large flock of these scavengers, that hung over him and which gained in numbers as they moved along, no doubt mistaking him for a dead body, floating. He had commenced the voyage on Friday and the old sailor superst.i.tion affected him. He did not like the persistence with which the ill-omened birds kept him company; but they were far out of range of pistol shot. He grew so nervous looking at the buzzards that he could see nothing else along the river. Then he thought of a plan to get rid of them, which he immediately put into execution. Taking a powerful detonating rocket from the Baby, he fired it into their midst and it bursted above. They darted away toward the Sierras and he was annoyed by them no more.

There was one companion he could not get rid of, however, that was the snow clad peak of Mt. Shasta. It appeared ever present and always at the same distance. He would think he had left it in the rear, when at the next bend of the river, it again loomed up in front of him. He saw it at sunrise and at sunset for days, gloriously colored as the variations of light bathed its towering sides.

At Grimes' Landing, a Sunday school picnic was encountered. Arches and banks of flowers, made bright a beautiful grove. On one arch were the words, "Baby Mine," spelled out in roses. Boyton had not intended to stop, but could not resist getting out and shaking hands with the little ones. That night he stopped at a wood cutter's camp.

Next evening he was met by a gentleman in a boat with a servant, who extended a most cordial invitation to spend the night. They repaired to an elegant residence on the river bank and the gentleman proved to be the Hon. John Boggs, proprietor of one of the great ranches which make California famous. He was profuse in his hospitality, sending messages by his private wire to Sacramento and San Francisco. His ranch consists of eleven thousand acres, requiring hundreds of men to work it; herds of cattle and droves of sheep, numbering into the tens of thousands, graze on the ranges. Ocean vessels are docked at his warehouses and loaded for foreign ports. Boyton always remembers the night spent at that California ranch as one of the most pleasant of his life.

Next day Colusa was reached and for some distance below, people were numerous on the banks, school children sometimes running along a mile or more. At one place a tall, raw boned woman, who looked as though she possessed a mind of her own, gathered up her skirts and trotted along the bank for same time, talking to Boyton. She wanted to know if he lectured.

"No; I am taking notes so as to write a book," replied Paul.

"Well, you're just the fellow I'm looking for. I want you to take notes about the slickens that are filling up this river and go for the miners, good and strong, who make them." With that she dropped her skirts and pointing her index finger impressively at Paul, concluded: "Now don't forget that, young fellow," and turned to retrace her steps.

The slickens spoken of by the strong minded female, is refuse from the mines filling the channel of the river and ruining navigation. It is produced by hydraulic mining, powerful streams of water washing the dirt down from the hills into the river. Boyton found the slickens very trying to the eyes.

At the mouth of Feather river he met a boat load of Sandwich Islanders, who were up that far fishing, they kept along with him for several miles and he found them to be very intelligent companions. That night he landed at a ranch and sounded his bugle. No one answering, he climbed to the top of a high hank and discovered a number of Chinamen coming toward him. At sight of him they all returned to the house in a hurry and Paul knew it was useless to apply for accommodation there. He entered the river again and paddled on until he reached another ranch.

At the call of the bugle, a man came out and in answer to Boyton's request for lodging, said:

"Why, certainly Captain, glad to have you come in. I've heard all about you."

On entering the house, the host explained that he was a bachelor and all alone, at the same time bustling about, baking biscuits and boiling eggs. Next morning there was the same liberal supply of eggs and as Paul was devouring a goodly share of them, the bachelor remarked:

"You needn't think, Captain, that because we had eggs last night and this mornin' too, they're cheap. No, sir. Why, 'pon honor, Cap, them eggs is worth fifteen cents a dozen in Sacramento."

The Captain a.s.sured him that they were most nutritious food and that he heartily enjoyed them. Before resuming the voyage that morning, Paul discovered, that back of the ranch, thousands of acres of splendid land was overflowed and rendered useless by the slickens falling into the Sacramento.

From the egg producing ranch, the river took on the appearance of a southern bayou. Trees and festoons of vines hung in the water, which was clear and beautiful and numbers of water snakes were continually crossing and recrossing. Seeing one handsome yellow fellow, Paul paddled after and captured it. It made no attempt to bite; but coiled tightly around his wrist and hand. It was three feet long and beautifully marked. He stowed it in the Baby and it remained his companion for the rest of the journey.

Groups of Chinamen were occasionally seen, fishing from the banks or the branches of overhanging trees. Some of these stared at him while others ran away. During the afternoon, he saw two celestials in a tree.

He silently ran under them and uttered a terrific yell. One of the Chinamen was so frightened that he let go all holds and dropped into the water, while his companion remained in the tree, his teeth chattering like castanets.

Further down Paul encountered beating head winds and suffered from the slickens. His face was badly burned and the skin peeled off in flakes.

On April 1st, he reached Sacramento and the usual hearty California reception was tendered him. For five days after leaving that city, the going was heavy and tiresome, having struck tide water directly below. The runs through Suesun and San Pablo bays were very trying.

Sat.u.r.day, April 6th, he made John's Lighthouse at the head of San Francis...o...b..y, and remained there until four o'clock in the morning, intending to start on the last run to San Francisco on the ebb tide. He made Angel Island at seven o'clock, where he was compelled to stop because the tide as it then was, would have carried him through the Golden Gate to the Pacific. When the tide turned, he again struck across the bay and was met by a fleet of boats to escort him in. Foremost among these was the yacht of Mr. Matt. O'Donnell. Calling to him, Boyton said: "Halloa Matt, I have a present for you." The boat was pulled alongside and Paul took the yellow snake out of the Baby, putting it into his friend's hand so quickly, that the latter did not have a chance to see what it was. The reptile coiled about his wrist and with an exclamation of fright, he shook it off on the deck much to the consternation of those aboard. As Boyton sheered off, O'Donnell, a.s.suming an oratorical att.i.tude, called out:

"Thanks for the snake."

Before Paul could reach his destination, the wind and tide suddenly changed and he was swept in the direction of the ocean, so he hauled around and headed for Sauscilito where he became the guest of the yacht club for the night. Next morning he made his way across and landed safely at San Francisco, after a laborious journey of twelve days.

He will long keep green in his memory the royal hospitality he received from the Californians.

Paul next decided to go to Salt Lake City and try the waters of its wonderful inland sea. After a few day's rest in San Francisco, he found himself on the sh.o.r.e of the Great Salt Lake. He had been told that the water was so dense that he would be able to walk on it in his rubber dress; but actual experience did not verify the a.s.sertion. In fact, he could discover but little difference between the water of the lake and that of the ocean. He might, possibly, float higher on the surface of the former, but very little. He found the water as clear as a crystal; but a veritable dead sea so far as animal life was concerned. There is no life in its depths except little worms that are found around the bottom of piles or on pieces of submerged wood, and these turn to flies. Wishing to prove to his own satisfaction that fish would not live in the lake, Paul procured some trout and turned them in. The moment they touched the briny water, they died as though shot by an electric current.

On the second evening after his arrival, Paul entered the water to paddle out to Antelope Island, about fifteen miles from sh.o.r.e. He was warned of danger in case of a wind; but thought nothing of it at the time. After slipping over the gla.s.sy surface of the lake for about ten miles, he noticed a heavy cloud coming down from the surrounding mountains and in a short time it was churned into a short, choppy sea by a squall blowing thirty or forty miles an hour. The waves were not very high, but slashed about him in such a manner that his eyes, nose and mouth were filled with the salty foam which caused intense agony.

He still struggled for the island, hoping to reach it before he would die of suffocation. He steered by the sound of the waves washing against the sh.o.r.e. At last he heard the flap, flap, of the breakers and he was swung against the rocky coast of Antelope Island. He knew that no human being lived there; only a flock of sheep that had been taken thither in flat boats to graze. He also knew there was something else on the island for which he longed--fresh water. He groped about for a time until he could open his eyes to see a little and fortunately discovered a spring not far from where he landed.

The gale continued all night and he dare not enter the water while it prevailed. Next morning a little steamer that was sent out to hunt him, found him on the island and conveyed him back to sh.o.r.e, pretty badly used up. He remained at the lake some time after, but did not make any more excursions.

During the month of March, 1887, Paul, who had returned from a short visit south, was feeling a trifle malarious. Regardless of the time honored and tested remedies for this complaint which were prescribed freely by his friends, he believed that the only thing for relief was a run in the ocean in the rubber dress, with the Baby as his sole companion. He also felt the necessity for a practice voyage before going down the Hudson, a trip which he then had in view.

Getting his paraphernalia together, he boarded the pilot boat, Fannie, on a Wednesday, and on Sat.u.r.day, attired in his dress, he slipped over her side with the intention of paddling to the Jersey coast, which he hoped to strike in the vicinity of Cape May.

The weather was not very cold when he went overboard and the sea was fine and smooth. Bye and bye the wind commenced to blow off sh.o.r.e and as he wanted to go to the westward, he had a hard fight against it all day and night. He sighted a great many vessels and signaled them to pick him up; but they did not see him for they all continued on their way. The constant battle against the stiff land breeze began to tell on him toward morning. The compa.s.s would not work and he was compelled to determine his course by the stars. The morning sun showed him that he was out of sight of land. During the forenoon, the wind shifted to the east which was more favorable, though he could take but little advantage of it on account of being stiff and sore from the severe buffeting to which he had been subjected during the night. All day Sunday, he continued working to the westward. About four o'clock he sighted the smoke of a steamer to the south and pulled across her course. He fired three rockets to attract her attention and waved his flag, the "union down" fastened to the paddle. His heart sank when she glided by apparently without seeing him; but to his joy, after pa.s.sing a short distance she stopped and he saw a boat lowered. He was taken aboard and learned that she was the William Lawrence of the Norfolk and Baltimore line, Captain M. W. Snow. When picked up, he was sixty miles off Sandy Hook. Captain Snow and everyone on board treated him with the utmost kindness. Directly after getting on board he turned in and slept for twelve hours. He landed at Providence on Monday, and he immediately wired his friends in New York that he was all right.

The contemplated voyage down the Hudson river, was delayed on account of ice; but on the fifth of April, a freshet broke it up and the voyager started from Hudson, accompanied by several representatives of the New York papers, who occupied a boat which was in charge of the famous oarsman, Wallace Ross a.s.sisted by George Whistler. The voyage was not of unusual interest, outside of the difficulty of forging ahead through the ice floes and considerable suffering from the cold. On that account and from the fact that the party were compelled to watch for favorable tides, progress was somewhat slow. They were enthusiastically received at every town and village and at several places, physicians advised Boyton to abandon the trip, fearing that the exposure would prove fatal but he made light of their fears.

One of the most interesting sights was encountered in the middle of the Tappan Zee. An enormous tow of one hundred ca.n.a.l boats and five schooners was pa.s.sed, drawn by four powerful tugs. Six hundred people inhabited this floating village and they stood on the decks of their migratory houses, going north with the spring, like the ducks, and hurrahed, and each tug screamed a salute. The oyster dredgers cheered and schooners changed their course to hail Boyton.