it
filled with water," answered Captain Blastblow.

"Then the next man that meets it in the dark cannot see it as well as
you did," I continued. "I don't think it is safe to run in the night
when the river is full of floating logs, flatboats, and other things."

The captain and the owner of the Islander discussed the subject, though
I could not hear what they said. In a few minutes the captain rang the
gong, and the steamer went ahead at full speed. I hoped no accident
would happen to the Islander, and the chances were in favor of her
reaching New Orleans in safety. But there was not much fun in paddling
through the muddy river in the dark, let alone the prudence of doing
so. My father and Owen came into the pilot-house after supper, and both
of them approved what I had done.

The Sylvania lay alongside the bank of the stream, held by the hawser,
with her stern a little way out from the shore. At seven o'clock it was
very dark, and I directed the watch I had set for the first part of the
night to rig lanterns at the fore-stay and the topping lift of the
main-boom. I had a quantity of Bengola lights put in the pilot-house,
that we might light up the scene around us, if it should be desirable
to do so.

[Illustration: "I saw the Islander with a house hanging to her bow."
_Page 252._]

About nine o'clock I heard the noise of escaping steam, not more than
half a mile distant. Then shouts came from the same direction. I
lighted one of the fireworks, and in the glare I saw the Islander with
a house hanging to her bow.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE ISLANDER IN A BAD FIX.

The silver light from the Bengola enabled me to see clearly the strange
sight that presented itself to our gaze. Owen was smoking his cigar,
and Washburn and my father were talking about India. The whistle and
the shout from the steamer were the first intimations we had that
anything was wrong. I could see some lights in the gloom that hung over
the river, but nothing to enable me to ascertain the situation, until
the Bengola illuminated the scene.

It was a strange sight. I could not tell whether the building was a
house or a stable, though it appeared to have too many windows for the
latter. The Islander, it appeared, had run her bow into the structure
up to the pilot-house. The steamer was still working her screw. But the
odd complication floated slowly down the stream towards the bank of the
river opposite the position of the Sylvania.

"Call