as difficult to tell whether it was through amusement
or fright. Paul got out on the bank and tried to quiet him, but was
unsuccessful and entered the water again and paddled away. For some
distance the voice of that hilarious fisherman was borne to him on the
breeze.

As evening closed in he could hear the darkies who had been paid off, it
being Saturday night, singing and arguing along the shore. A dense fog
soon enveloped everything, however, and he could not see which way he
was going. He seized the roots of a drifting tree, knowing it would keep
in the channel, mounted it and sat there for hours floating with the
current. All night the mocking birds along shore serenaded him. He
would have remained on the tree until morning; but he heard the whistles
of steamers below. Knowing that a fleet left New Orleans every
Saturday afternoon bound north, and that each would be trying to gain
the lead on the other, he was afraid he would be run down, so he slid
off the tree and made for shore. That course was not without its danger,
also; for mingled with the beautiful songs of the mocking bird, he had
heard the hoarse bark of alligators and there was no telling but that
he might run right on to some of them. They are thick along shore, but
rarely go out into the river, except as in the case of the dead mule,
they follow their prey. Luckily he avoided those dangerous reptiles. He
sounded the bugle and a Frenchman came down to the bank. Paul explained
who he was and the man eagerly invited him ashore. "I am sitting up
with my old master who is dead," said the Frenchman. "What was the
matter with him?" inquired Boyton, somewhat alarmed.

"Oh, it wasn't the fever, you need have no fear."

Paul decided to land and wait until the fleet had passed at any rate,
then he lighted his lamp and pushed off through the fog, preferring the
solitude of the river to the society of the grief stricken Frenchman.
The fog lifted in the morning and he found that he was on time. Ten
miles above New Orleans, he was met by excursion steamers with
enthusiastic crowds aboard. Captain Leathers of the famous old boat,
Natchez, was determined to outdo the others in the way of welcoming the
voyager, for Boyton was an old friend. He had a cannon placed on the
deck of his boat, loaded to the muzzle. A crowd of negroes were jammed
on a lot of cotton bales, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Paul
and Captain Leathers fired right