I rang the gong one stroke
when we were within a hundred yards of the crevasse, as I had arranged
with the engineer to do.

The Sylvania soon began to shake and quiver as though she were in the
hands of an angry giant, under the pressure of the steam. I had sent
all the passengers to the after part of the vessel, giving the planters
and their families places on the hurricane-deck. I desired to trim her
aft, as we had hardly coal enough in the bunkers to keep the screw
entirely under water. I regarded it as an excellent thing to have so
much "live ballast" on board. I gave Buck and Hop strict orders not to
let a single person come on the forecastle.

I put Cobbington and Ben Bowman on the hurricane-deck, to keep the
passengers there on the after part. If a few went forward, they would
all do so, for it was the best place to see the operation of the
steamer. By these means I hoped to keep the propeller entirely under
water, and thus get the full benefit of its action on the swift
current. It was still a torrent, but by no means so terrible as when we
had gone through before.

Moses Brickland had never shaken the Sylvania as he was shaking her
now. He was a prudent young man, and I never had occasion to criticise
what he did. He understood the present situation as well as I did. The
levee force was waiting to close the gap, and thus save many more lives
miles from the scene of its operations. We must get through at once, or
the gap would be closed. The abrupt fall was not more than a foot now,
and I had strong hopes that we could overcome it.

It seemed to me that the water was rushing through the crevasse at the
rate of twenty miles an hour. The arithmetic of the situation was
therefore all against me. Moses had never run the Sylvania more than
twelve knots an hour, and he was obliged to hurry her to do that. He
had told me he could get fifteen miles an hour out of her on a great
emergency, but he had never been disposed to try it. He had overhauled
the boiler at New Orleans, and reported it in first-rate condition. Yet
I could not, mathematically, see how a vessel going fifteen miles an
hour could stem a current of twenty miles.

But the force of the current was merely guesswork. It might be twenty,
and it might be no more than ten miles. Mr. Bell agreed with me on the
former figure, while Washburn and Ben Bowman insisted that it was not
more than ten at the present time. If I "split" the difference between
the two