the boys had never seen anything like this before—such horrible heads and faces—or heard such a din. the tightly-muzzled “napoleon” rose on his haunches, rolling his eyes wildly round. accustomed to play with the arksmen, he was not much afraid of anybody; but now he attempted to bolt. the boys held him with difficulty.
they still thought that it was probably “fun.” but when those two “redskins” rushed toward them with tomahawks they were alarmed, the whoops were so ugly, the hatchets looked so wicked! out came moses’ old dueling pistol, which—like a
302
boy—he had taken with him under his deerskin smock.
lewis’ hands were so wound in the bear’s chain that he could not draw his; but wistar, with his heavy bag of mammoth back-bones, gave one “indian” a “smash” over the head that felled him.
fortunately for moses, trouble with the hair-trigger resulted in his discharging the pistol harmlessly into the ground.
but the fracas now began in earnest, and it might have ended badly for our young kaintocks had not a loud laugh been heard and a high-pitched but powerful voice bawled in a queer mixture of spanish and french: “paz! paz, mes enfants! paz, mes petits!”—“peace! peace, my children!”
this timely outcry came from a veranda close at hand, where a stout old priest in a brown gown, and a tall, dark man, wearing a military cloak, stood watching
303
the revelers. immediately the former came through the throng, stretching out his arms, pushing them all aside as if they were in very truth his “children.” his big, kind face shone in the torchlight like a benevolent gargoyle, and his voice was as oil on angry waves.
“paz! paz!” he murmured, soothingly, in that odd jumble of french and andalusian. “no sangre! todos de bon coeur!”
with his hands he patted one after another, even napoleon, who snuffed him thoughtfully through his muzzle.
beyond doubt this was kind old “pere antoine,” who, for forty years, was so amiable and ubiquitous a figure in the new orleans of those early days; “pere antoine cheri,” whom, although he was a spaniard by birth, the creoles loved to adoration; the brown-gowned old capuchin who married all the young couples, white, black and
304
yellow, and christened all their children as fast as they came into the world; who heard and sympathized with them in all their troubles, griefs and sins.
he was the unselfish, incorruptible guardian and lover of the city’s poor, who handled alms-money by the hundredweight, but lived in a little hut in the suburbs and slept on two bare boards; who used to have a great brown leather bag at his girdle for a purse, often so full by mid-week of voluntary silver and gold that, big as he was, he could hardly carry it, yet always quite empty—such was his charity—by sunday evening; the “cher daddy antoine” of the street gamins, who tagged after him for his blessing and lagniappe—and never failed to get both.
the dark man in the military cloak, who laughed so heartily at the warlike attitude of the three youngsters in coonskin caps, was señor casa calvo, the spanish
305
commissioner, who continued to live in new orleans after the transfer of the territory to the united states.
feeling sure, from his kindly face and the respect accorded him by the revelers, that they had made a friend worthy of confidence, the boys spoke to the priest of doctor buchat, and by signs gave him to understand that they were taking the bear to his house. wistar also showed him the two huge vertebræ.
so greatly piqued was their curiosity, that both the priest and señor calvo accompanied the boys to doctor buchat’s house. so much animated talk ensued over the mammoth skeleton that it was not till late in the evening that the good doctor found quarters for napoleon—so late, indeed, that the old naturalist kept his youthful visitors overnight and to breakfast on the following morning.
this was the boys’ last trip to the city,
306
for that day captain royce had completed his preparations for the long voyage up the river, not forgetting numerous presents for the people at home. wistar, charlie hoyt and lewis, who had saved their profits from the venture, also bought similar gifts.
of kenton, macafee and corson less kindly mention can be made. like many other arksmen of those times, they had squandered much of their money at saloons and gaming-places in “the swamp”; and becoming much dissatisfied, they determined to quit their more prosperous comrades, and go home on foot through the wilderness, by the “natchez trail.”
putting together what they had left from their dissipations, they bought a horse and set off, corson first riding for two hours, then hitching the horse beside the path, and going on afoot. when kenton and macafee came up, macafee mounted and rode for two hours, then left the horse
307
hitched for kenton, who was coming on behind. by the time kenton had ridden two hours he usually overtook corson, who then took his second turn. this was termed “whipsaw traveling”, and must have been hard for the poor horse.
they expected to reach home in thirty-eight days, and long in advance of their former comrades on the “horse-boat.” captain royce sent a message home by them, and also a letter to milly ayer.
he had previously sent word home by two cincinnati boats; neither of which, however, had been able to forward the message. nor did the word or letter sent by corson and his companions come to hand, for the three arksmen never reached the settlement on the ohio; what became of them is not known. savages or outlaws may have murdered them; or, owing to dissatisfaction, they may have gone to “east florida” or the carolinas to live.
308
the milly ayer, as her youthful captain had chivalrously christened their new keel-boat, was not ready to leave new orleans for the homeward voyage until january 24th; and still another day was lost, waiting for a passenger who had offered captain royce a hundred and fifty dollars to be taken to st. louis.
this passenger was none other than the waggish lieutenant charles grimsby, who is supposed to have carried a despatch from general wilkinson to captain amos stoddard, the first american governor of st. louis. captain stoddard, however, did not assume the duties of office until the 10th of march following.
the french settlers of st. louis, indeed, were still in ignorance of the sale and transfer of the mississippi valley to the united states, and the horse-boat of our young arksmen was destined to bring them the first positive intelligence of this event. like
309
the creoles at new orleans, they were awaiting the arrival of a french army to take possession of the country in the mighty name of napoleon bonaparte.
on the morning of the arksmen’s departure—january 25th—an old acquaintance returned in great haste and jumped aboard the boat, resolutely bent on rejoining his former messmates. this was none other than napoleon, the pet black bear, whom they had presented to doctor buchat.
when first seen by lewis, the bear was coming back at a clumsy gallop up the levee, dragging his chain and pursued by a hundred young darkies, who were hastening his flight with stones and clods. instinct, or keen scent, had brought him to the milly ayer. he leaped aboard, whimpering from mingled fear and gladness at recognizing his old friends of the ark.
but they, truth to say, did not want him.
310
word was at once sent to doctor buchat. it then transpired that the worthy savant of good-children street was not desirous of recovering him; in fact, the doctor begged that captain royce would make some other disposition of the animal. he had turned cross in his new surroundings, and had been near devouring one of the doctor’s maid servants.
shadwell lincoln suggested a rifle-ball as offering an easy way out of the difficulty, but moses and lewis would not hear of this. they still retained an affection for their former pet.
finally, since the bear was aboard and objected strenuously to going ashore, lieutenant grimsby proposed that he should take him to st. louis as a present to the new governor; and with this destination in view, napoleon began his return voyage up the mississippi.
at last the long voyage began. the
311
horses were fresh, the gear worked well, and the little craft plowed her way gallantly up the river, making fairly good time for many days, with few accidents.
besides lieutenant grimsby, and napoleon, twelve still remained from the crew of seventeen, which gave four shifts of three men each for duty—the lookout, the steersman, and the driver for the two horses.
wary in all matters that touched the safety of his boat, captain royce had protected the horse-power on each side with thick planks, that no indian or outlaw bullet might disable his team when at work. the stalls aft, where the resting animals stood, as also the cabin for the crew, were likewise covered in.
twelve hours a day was the usual traveling time. they then tied up to the bank for the night, at some point chosen with an eye for defense and shelter.
commanded with such sagacity and
312
prudence, the milly ayer reached the confluence of the ohio with the mississippi on february 22nd, having lost but four days, which had been spent in fishing and hunting to replenish the food supply, and in foraging for the horses.
here for once marion royce seems to have departed from his usual rule of carefully avoiding quarrels. he had never forgiven the brutal assault upon corson at “cairo.” corson’s sightless eye had been a constant reminder of the indignity.
the evening they reached the confluence of the rivers it was agreed to give cairo a surprise. we are at liberty to surmise, however, that the waggish lieutenant grimsby had something to do with this practical joke. his record afterward would seem to justify such a conjecture.
during the small hours of the night, after the thin mists began to rise from the river and lowlands, the milly ayer, using its
313
sweeps instead of the horse-power, approached where the big “broadhorn”—which still sheltered cairo and its queer population—lay moored to the muddy bank. charlie hoyt then quietly boarded it from the skiff.
at that hour every one appeared to be asleep. stepping aboard cautiously, hoyt first secured his skiff, then made one end of a hawser, which he had brought along, fast to the foot of a stanchion. this done, he crept along the shoreward rail, and with a large, sharp knife, severed the two old cables which held cairo to the shore; then decamped in the skiff as silently as he had come, paying out the hawser.
this was some three hundred feet in length, and as soon as hoyt got back to the keel he and his friends made the other end fast inboard, poled off from the bank, and then, heading down-stream again, set the horses at work with a free application of the whip.
314
the ohio was then rising, and the old broadhorn was afloat at its moorings. yielding slowly to the pull from the horse-boat, it floated out and away—as a coal barge is towed by a tug.
in great but silent glee, our boatmen touched up their horses. they meant to tow cairo down into the mississippi, then cut adrift and let it go on a voyage of discovery.
before they had gone far, however, somebody waked up. first there were drowsy shouts astern, then louder ones and more of them, and then indeed pandemonium broke loose on the old craft. lights glimmered in the misty darkness and candles were seen dodging to and fro. and now, hearing the clatter of the horse-power and the noise of the paddles from the keel, the cairoese began hailing vigorously, to learn what was the matter.
“ho, the barge!” they cried. “you’ve
315
run foul of us! you’ve carried us clean away! avast thar! heave-to!”
they thought that some river craft had run into them, and did not for a considerable time discover the hawser, but continued shouting for help to get back to their moorings.
nearly bursting with suppressed laughter, our arksmen said nothing, but kept the horses hard at work. and with the strong current helping on, both craft were now going down-stream at a great rate.
the cairoese presently discovered the hawser, and divined the nature of the prank that was being played on them. their hails for aid and information suddenly changed to threats and execrations not to be recorded here.
soon, too, a rifle flashed and a bullet sang past; then another, and loads of buckshot began to whistle and to pepper the keel. our delighted arksmen were all
316
lying low, however, and had the horses well protected. they still held on, and kept the old broadhorn hurrying down the river at twelve-knot speed.
but the denizens of cairo were not to be long trifled with. many of them had experience as rivermen, and some were desperate characters. instead of casting off the hawser, or cutting loose, numbers of them suddenly began hauling their end of it inboard, and despite the draft on it, soon shortened the distance between the two craft, with the evident design of boarding the horse-boat.
but this was what captain royce and shadwell lincoln had been looking for, and before much progress had been made, the former quietly cut adrift himself, and veering off, let cairo go on its involuntary voyage down-stream.
rifles still continued to crack, and not a few bullets came aboard the milly ayer.
317
captain royce got away from his queer “tow” without much difficulty, however, and when day dawned was ten miles on his way up the mississippi, bound for st. louis.
it is said that cairo did not get back to its former moorings for a week or more. and for years afterward rivermen were wont to relate the story of the joke which “mack” royce played on the “town.”
the milly ayer was five days going from the confluence of the ohio up to st. louis. but, at a little before noon on the 27th, it arrived in sight of the pretty clearing on the west bank of the mississippi, where stood the hundred and eighty houses of squared logs which comprised the st. louis of 1803.
pierre laclede, a french trader, cleared a site and built the first houses here in 1764. in 1803 the houses of the french traders and principal citizens stood along main street, each at the center of what is now a
318
city block, surrounded by high palisades, or stone walls, for defensive purposes. fruit and vegetable gardens were within these enclosures. there were two small taverns, a bakery, two smithies and two grist-mills. many of the people were traders, and kept a stock of goods at their houses.
the luxuries, and even the necessities, of life were excessively dear; coffee was two dollars a pound, and sugar equally high-priced. a knowledge of this had led captain royce to lay in a stock of these staples, after consenting to take lieutenant grimsby as a passenger. and, as the event proved, he was able to clear a dollar a pound on four quintals of each.
at the outset, however, a mad prank on the part of the lieutenant came near getting them in trouble. knowing that the french at st. louis cherished a vast admiration for napoleon bonaparte, and were expecting that he would shortly take possession of the
319
mississippi valley, grimsby bethought himself—since their pet bear was named napoleon—to have some sport from the coincidence. he said nothing to captain royce, but persuaded lewis and moses to assist him, and told them what to shout as they drew in to the landing-place.
“napoleon is here! vive napoleon!”
in those days the arrival of a keel-boat from new orleans was an event. not more than ten came up in the course of a season. as soon as the milly ayer was sighted, nearly the whole population came running to the river bank, and were both astonished and immensely delighted to see moses and lewis waving the tricolor from the top of the deck-house and hear them shouting:
“vive napoleon!” “napoleon est ici!” (napoleon is here!) “napoleon chez vous!”
this was sufficiently bad french, but it was understood. and the effect ashore was tremendous!
