X.
FRIGHTS AND PERILS IN STEELE'S BAYOU.
_Wednesday, July 16, 1862. (Under a tree on the bank of Steele'sBayou.)_--Early this morning our boat was taken out of the Mississippi andput on Mr. Fetler's ox-cart. After breakfast we followed on foot. The walkin the woods was so delightful that all were disappointed when a silverygleam through the trees showed the bayou sweeping along, full to thebanks, with dense forest trees almost meeting over it. The boat waslaunched, calked, and reloaded, and we were off again. Towards noon thesound of distant cannon began to echo around, probably from Vicksburgagain. About the same time we began to encounter rafts. To get around themrequired us to push through brush so thick that we had to lie down in theboat. The banks were steep and the land on each side a bog. About 1o'clock we reached this clear space with dry shelving banks anddisembarked to eat lunch. To our surprise a neatly dressed woman cametripping down the declivity bringing a basket. She said she lived aboveand had seen our boat. Her husband was in the army, and we were the firstwhite people she had talked to for a long while. She offered somecorn-meal pound-cake and beer, and as she climbed back told us to "lookout for the rapids." H. is putting the boat in order for our start andsays she is waving good-bye from the bluff above.
_Thursday, July 17, 1862. (On a raft in Steele's Bayou.)_--Yesterday wewent on nicely awhile and at afternoon came to a strange region of rafts,extending about three miles, on which persons were living. Many salutedus, saying they had run away from Vicksburg at the first attempt of thefleet to shell it. On one of these rafts, about twelve feet square,[32]bagging had been hung up to form three sides of a tent. A bed was in onecorner, and on a low chair, with her provisions in jars and boxes groupedround her, sat an old woman feeding a lot of chickens. They were struttingabout oblivious to the inconveniences of war, and she looked serenely atease.
Having moonlight, we had intended to travel till late. But about teno'clock, the boat beginning to go with great speed, H., who was steering;called to Max:
"Don't row so fast; we may run against something."
"I'm hardly pulling at all."
"Then we're in what she called the rapids!"
The stream seemed indeed to slope downward, and in a minute a dark linewas visible ahead. Max tried to turn, but could not, and in a second morewe dashed against this immense raft, only saved from breaking up by themen's quickness. We got out upon it and ate supper. Then, as the boat wasleaking and the current swinging it against the raft, H. and Max thoughtit safer to watch all night, but told us to go to sleep. It was a strangespot to sleep in--a raft in the middle of a boiling stream, with awilderness stretching on either side. The moon made ghostly shadows andshowed H., sitting still as a ghost, in the stern of the boat, whilemingled with the gurgle of the water round the raft beneath was the boomof cannon in the air, solemnly breaking the silence of night. It drizzlednow and then, and the mosquitoes swarmed over us. My fan and umbrella hadbeen knocked overboard, so I had no weapon against them. Fatigue, however,overcomes everything, and I contrived to sleep.
H. roused us at dawn. Reeney found light-wood enough on the raft to make agood fire for coffee, which never tasted better. Then all hands assistedin unloading; a rope was fastened to the boat, Max got in, H. held therope on the raft, and, by much pulling and pushing, it was forced througha narrow passage to the farther side. Here it had to be calked, and whilethat was being done we improvised a dressing-room in the shadow of our bigtrunks. (During the trip I had to keep the time, therefore properly tosecure belt and watch was always an anxious part of my toilet.) The boatis now repacked, and while Annie and Reeney are washing cups I havescribbled, wishing much that mine were the hand of an artist.
_Friday morning, July 18, 1862. (House of Col. K., on YazooRiver.)_--After leaving the raft yesterday all went well till noon, whenwe came to a narrow place where an immense tree lay clear across thestream. It seemed the insurmountable obstacle at last. We sat despairingwhat to do, when a man appeared beside us in a pirogue. So sudden, sosilent was his arrival that we were thrilled with surprise. He said if wehad a hatchet he could help us. His fairy bark floated in among thebranches like a bubble, and he soon chopped a path for us, and wasdelighted to get some matches in return. He said the cannon we heardyesterday were in an engagement with the ram _Arkansas_, which ran out ofthe Yazoo that morning. We did not stop for dinner to-day, but ate a hastylunch in the boat, after which nothing but a small piece of bread wasleft. About two we reached the forks, one of which ran to the Yazoo, theother to the Old River. Max said the right fork was our road; H. said theleft, that there was an error in Max's map; but Max steered into the rightfork. After pulling about three miles he admitted his mistake and turnedback; but I shall never forget Old River. It was the vision of a drownedworld, an illimitable waste of dead waters, stretching into a great,silent, desolate forest. A horror chilled me and I begged them to row fastout of that terrible place.
Just as we turned into the right way, down came the rain so hard and fastwe had to stop on the bank. It defied trees or umbrellas and nearly tookaway the breath. The boat began to fill, and all five of us had to bailas fast as possible for the half-hour the sheet of water was pouring down.As it abated a cold breeze sprung up that, striking our wet clothes,chilled us to the bone. All were shivering and blue--no, I was green.Before leaving Mr. Fetler's Wednesday morning I had donned a dark-greencalico. I wiped my face with a handkerchief out of my pocket, and face andhands were all dyed a deep green. When Annie turned round and looked at meshe screamed and I realized how I looked; but she was not much better, forof all dejected things wet feathers are the worst, and the plumes in herhat were painful.
About five we reached Colonel K.'s house, right where Steele's Bayouempties into the Yazoo. We had both to be fairly dragged out of the boat,so cramped and weighted were we by wet skirts. The family were absent, andthe house was headquarters for a squad of Confederate cavalry, which wasalso absent. The old colored housekeeper received us kindly and lightedfires in our rooms to dry the clothing. My trunk had got cracked on top,and all the clothing to be got at was wet. H. had dropped his in the riverwhile lifting it out, and his clothes were wet. A spoonful of brandyapiece was left in the little flask, and I felt that mine saved me frombeing ill. Warm blankets and the brandy revived us, and by supper-time wegot into some dry clothes.
Just then the squad of cavalry returned; they were only a dozen, but theymade much, uproar, being in great excitement. Some of them were known toMax and H., who learned from them that a gunboat was coming to shell themout of this house. Then ensued a clatter such as twelve men surely nevermade before--rattling about the halls and galleries in heavy boots andspurs, feeding horses, calling for supper, clanking swords, buckling andunbuckling belts and pistols. At last supper was dispatched, and theymounted and were gone like the wind. We had a quiet supper and goodnight's rest in spite of the expected shells, and did not wake till tento-day to realize we were not killed. About eleven breakfast wasfurnished. Now we are waiting till the rest of our things are dried tostart on our last day of travel by water.
_Sunday, July 20, 1862_.--A little way down the Yazoo on Friday we raninto McNutt's Lake, thence into Chickasaw Bayou, and at dark landed atMrs. C.'s farm, the nearest neighbors of H.'s uncle. The house was full ofConfederate sick, friends from Vicksburg, and while we ate supper allpresent poured out the story of the shelling and all that was to be doneat Vicksburg. Then our stuff was taken from the boat, and we finallyabandoned the stanch little craft that had carried us for over one hundredand twenty-five miles in a trip occupying nine days. The luggage in awagon, and ourselves packed in a buggy, were driven for four or fivemiles, over the roughest road I ever traveled, to the farm of Mr. B., H.'suncle, where we arrived at midnight and hastened to hide in bed the utterexhaustion of mind and body. Yesterday we were too tired to think, or todo anything but to eat peaches.
FOOTNOTES:[32] More likely twelve yards.--G.W.C.