The Quadroon: Adventures in the Far West. Reid Mayne

one after another up the red tunnels of the furnace!

      The Magnolia was still gaining upon us. Already her head was even with the wheel-house of the Belle. On the latter boat the excitement increased, and the noise along with it. An occasional taunt from the passengers of the rival boat added fuel to the flame; and the Captain was once more abjured to run. Men almost threatened him with violence!

      The Magnolia continued to advance. She was now head for head with us. Another minute passed – a minute of deep silence – the crews and passengers of both boats watched their progress with hearts too full for utterance. Another minute, and the Magnolia had shot ahead!

      A triumphant cheer rang along her decks, mingled with taunting shouts and expressions of insult.

      “Throw us a line, and we’ll tow you!” cried one.

      “Whar’s yer old ark now?” shouted another.

      “Hurraw for the Magnolia! Three groans for the Belle of the West! Three groans for the old dugout!” vociferated a third, amidst jeers and shouts of laughter.

      I can hardly describe the mortification felt by those on board the Belle. It was not confined to the officers and crew. The passengers, one and all, seemed to partake of the feeling. I shared it myself, more than I could have believed to be possible.

      One dislikes to be among the conquered, even on any terms of association. Besides, one involuntarily catches the impulse of the moment. The sentiment that surrounds you – perhaps by physical laws which you cannot resist – for the moment becomes your own; and even when you know the object of exultation to be worthless or absurd, you are controlled by the electric current to join in the enthusiasm. I remember once being thus carried away, and mingled my voice with the rude throats that cheered the passing cortege of royalty. The moment it was past, however, my heart fell, abashed at its own meanness and wickedness.

      Both his crew and passengers seemed to think our Captain imprudent in his prudence: and a general clamour, mingled with cries of “Shame!” was heard all over the boat.

      The poor Captain! I had my eyes upon him all this while. I really pitied him. I was perhaps the only passenger on board, beside the fair Creole, who knew his secret; and I could not help admiring the chivalric fortitude with which he kept it to himself. I saw his cheek glow, and his eye sparkle with vexation; and I felt satisfied, that had he been called upon to make that promise then, he would not have done so for the privilege of carrying all the freight upon the river.

      Just then, as if to escape the importunities that beset him, I saw him steal back and pass through the ladies’ cabin. There he was at once recognised, and a general onset was made upon him by his fair passengers, who were almost as noisy in their petitions as the men. Several threatened him, laughingly, that they would never travel by his boat again; while others accused him of a want of gallantry. Surely it was impossible to resist such banterings; and I watched the Captain closely, expecting a crisis one way or the other. The crisis was at hand.

      Drawing himself up in the midst of a knot of these importunates, he thus addressed them: —

      “Ladies! Nothing would give me more pleasure than to gratify you, but before leaving New Orleans I gave my promise – in fact, passed my word of honour to a lady – ” Here the gallant speech was interrupted by a young lady, who, rushing up from another part of the boat, cried out —

      “Oh, Capitaine! cher Capitaine! do not let that wicked boat get ahead of us! do put on more steam, and pass her – that is a dear Captain!”

      “Why, Mademoiselle!” replied the Captain, in astonishment, “it was to you I gave the promise not to run – it was – ”

      “Pardieu!” exclaimed Mademoiselle Besançon, for it was she. “So you did. I had quite forgotten it. Oh, cher Capitaine, I release you from that promise. Hélas! I hope it is not too late. For Heaven’s sake, try to pass her! Écoutez! les polissons! how they taunt us!”

      The Captain’s face brightened up for a moment, and then suddenly resumed its vexed expression. He replied —

      “Mademoiselle, although grateful to you, I regret to say that under the circumstances I cannot hope to run successfully against the Magnolia. We are not on equal terms. She is burning bacon hams, of which she has a large supply. I should have had the same, but after promising you not to run, I, of course, did not take any on board. It would be useless to attempt a race with only common cord-wood – unless indeed the Belle be much the faster boat, which we do not yet know, as we have never tried her speed.”

      Here appeared to be a dilemma, and some of the ladies regarded Mademoiselle Besançon with looks of displeasure.

      “Bacon hams!” she exclaimed; “bacon hams did you say, cher Capitaine? How many would be enough? Would two hundred be enough?”

      “Oh! less than that,” replied the Captain.

      “Here! Antoine! Antoine!” continued she, calling to the old steward. “How many bacon hams have you on board?”

      “Ten barrels of them, Mademoiselle,” answered the steward, bowing respectfully.

      “Ten barrels! that will do, I suppose? Cher Capitaine, they are at your service!”

      “Mademoiselle, I shall pay you for them,” said the Captain, brightening up, and becoming imbued with the general enthusiasm.

      “No – no – no! Let the expense be mine. I have hindered you. They were for my plantation people, but they are not in want. We shall send down for more. Go, Antoine! go to the firemen. Knock in the heads of the barrels! Use them as you please, but do not let us be beaten by that wicked Magnolia! Hark! how they cheer! Ha! we shall pass them yet.”

      So saying, the fiery Creole rushed back to the guard-way, followed by a group of admirers.

      The Captain’s “dander” was now fairly up; and the story of the bacon hams soon spreading over the boat, still further heightened the enthusiasm of both passengers and crew. Three loud cheers were given for the young lady, which seemed to mystify the Magnolians, who had now been for some time in the enjoyment of their triumph, and had forged a considerable distance ahead.

      All hands went to work with a will – the barrels were rolled-up, their heads knocked in, and part of their contents “chucked” up the blazing furnace. The iron walls soon grew red – the steam rose – the boat trembled under the increased action of the engine – the bells of the engineers tinkled their signals – the wheels revolved more rapidly, and an increase of velocity was soon perceptible.

      Hope had stifled clamour – comparative silence was restored. There was heard only an occasional utterance – the expression of an opinion upon the speed of the rival boats – the fixing the conditions of a bet – and now and then some allusion to the story of the bacon hams.

      At intervals, all eyes were bent upon the water eagerly glancing along the line that separated the rival steamers.

      Chapter Eleven

      A Boat-Race upon the Mississippi

      It had now become quite dark. There was no moon in the sky – not a speck of a star. A clear heaven over the lower region of the Mississippi, at night, is rather rare than otherwise. The film of the swamp too often obscures it.

      There was light enough for the race. The yellow water shone clear. It was easily distinguishable from the land. The track was a wide one; and the pilots of both boats – old hands – knew every “shute” and sand-bar of the river.

      The rival steamers were quite visible to one another. No lamps needed to be hung out, although the gaff over the bow of each boat carried its coloured signal. The cabin windows of both were full of light, and the blaze of the bacon fires flung a vermilion glare far over the water.

      Upon each boat the spectators could be seen from the other in their state-room windows, or leaning against the guards, in attitudes that betokened their interest.

      By the time the Belle had fairly got up steam, the Magnolia was a full half-mile in advance of her. This distance, though nothing where there is a large difference of speed, is not