to help him pull it loose. Jeff crept to the back of the boat, and they both took the line and pulled. All at once it snapped from their hands and disappeared beneath the water. “Well, I’m damned!” said Pa. “We shore got us somethin’ here. Hand me the gaff, Skeeter.”
He took the gaff from Skeeter, and he pushed the hook deep under the water to catch and bring the line back up. When he had it again, he and Jeff grabbed the line with both hands and pulled with all the strength they could gather. They would pull up a little and then the line would go back down. They battled back and forth for a half hour and finally succeeded in getting the fish’s head to the surface of the water. Pa grabbed the gaff and sliced the point through the bottom jaw of the fish. They let the line go and both took the handle of the gaff. With a mighty heave they pulled in the fish. It stretched half the length of the boat. The big cat would weigh at least eighty pounds.
“We shore got us one this time, ain’t we, Pa!” said Jeff.
“I knowed whut hit was goin’ to be this mornin’,” said Pa, “’cause I could smell hit in the air. A feller kin jest ’bout tell whut he’s got afore he leaves the house if’n he’ll jest smell the air.”
“If’n we would of caught one more, this boat would have shore sunk,” said Skeeter. “She’s jest about under the water now. How much do you suppose all this fish will weigh, Pa?”
“Best I kin figger is that they’ll weigh nigh on three hundred and fifty pounds with whut we got at the house. And they was bringing five cents a pound last week in Mill Town. We’ll have enough left over after gittin’ the supplies to buy us a few more shot and some powder fer the gun. We’s jest about out.”
On the way back downstream, Jeff and Skeeter didn’t use the oars for fear of tipping the boat too much and swamping it. The sides were only a couple of inches out of the water, and a slight dip to one side would have sent it under. They let the current take the boat, and Jeff used his oar for a rudder. About a half mile from the mouth of the bayou they heard a loud blast around the bend.
“Oh my Lord, have mercy on me!” cried Pa. “Hit’s one of them steamboat fellers, and with this load on here they will swamp us shore.”
“Do you reckon we kin make hit to the bayou afore they gits to us, Pa?” asked Skeeter.
“We’d nary make it, Son,” said Pa. “If’n you and Jeff was to use the oars fer speed you’d turn the boat over afore we got near ’bouts there.”
The blast sounded again, and then they could see the steamboat come around the bend and head straight for them.
“Head her into that little creek comin’ in there!” cried Pa. Jeff turned the oar hard to the left, and the boat began to swing slowly into the right bank of the river. A little creek flowed into the river just below them, and Jeff pointed the bow of the boat into it. All three jumped out into the neck-deep water, and guided the boat behind a clump of bushes hanging over the water. Skeeter could hardly keep his nose above the water by standing on his toes. Just as they got behind the bush the steamboat passed, with its stem wheels churning madly. The waves from its wake rolled into the creek and knocked Skeeter from his feet. Jeff and Pa clung to the sides of the boat to keep the water from rushing over it and turning it over. Skeeter was knocked under the boat and then into the bank. When he came up, his eyes and mouth were filled with the foul-tasting, muddy water. He pulled himself onto the bank and began to belch the water from his stomach. Pa and Jeff still clung to the sides of the boat, with the waves rushing over their heads. When the water finally calmed again, they crawled onto the bank with Skeeter.
“You hurt, Skeeter?” asked Pa.
“Naw,” he said, “jest got me a bellyful uv mud.”
“How we goin’ to git back in the boat without turnin’ her over?” asked Jeff. “That sucker jest air goin’ to stay out’n the water by itself now.”
“I guess they ain’t but one thing fer us to do,” said Pa, “and that be to cling to the sides of the boat and float her in home. Me and you kin git on one side apiece and Skeeter kin hang on to the rear. We kin drift to the bayou and then kick her on up home.”
Pa and Jeff got on opposite sides of the boat and Skeeter clung to the rear; they paddled with their hands and feet and pushed the boat into the swift current of the river. They fought the boat to the left side of the river and barely managed to turn it into the mouth of the bayou. Once out of the swift water, they all three clung to the rear and kicked up their feet, and slowly moved up the bayou to the landing. Ma and Theresa ran from the house to meet them.
“Whut in the world air you fellers hangin’ on and kickin’ like a bunch of hound dogs fer?” asked Ma. “You ain’t got tetched in the head, has you?”
“That dern steamboat jest liked to have sunk the boat and drowned us all,” said Pa, “and we couldn’t git back in without swampin’ her. You see whut a load we got in the boat, don’t you? We shore got to git us a bigger boat somehow.”
“Hit’s a good thing you come home with some fish this mornin’,” said Ma, “or hit would have been mighty pore eatin’ aroun’ here soon. Now you kin jest git me a fresh bottle of snuff fer some of that fish tomorrow.”
“And if’n you kin, I’d like a hair comb, Pa,” said Theresa.
“The both of you better be glad if’n I bring home plenty of meal and sugar,” said Pa, “’cause we come mighty nigh losin’ the whole bunch of hit.”
“Well, I’m goin’ an’ hoe in the garden some more,” said Ma, “so’es hit won’t be too long afore we has some peas and onions on the table. Theresa, you better go see if’n you kin get some of that poke salat to fix fer dinner. And while you is out there, git some fer them hogs. They been rootin’ in that pen so much hit looks like where a bunch of bull ’gators been fightin’.”
Pa and the boys pulled the boat up on the landing and took the fish out and put them in the fish box. When they had finished, they turned the boat up on one side and dumped the water out of it. “Jeff,” said Pa, “I ’speck me and you better row over to the woods on the other side of the river and git some pine fer the fire. They ain’t too much left, and we shore won’t be able to go afore next week.”
“Do you want me to go too, Pa?” asked Skeeter.
“I’m afeared they won’t be enough room in the boat fer us and the wood too if’n you go,” said Pa.
As soon as Jeff went to the house and brought back the ax, he and Pa shoved off down the bayou in the boat. Skeeter stood on the landing and watched them until they were out of sight. He was glad that they had not wanted him to go along with them. He liked to be alone, especially if he could go into the swamp by himself. He ran to the back of the house and got the pole for the skiff and started up the bayou toward the swamp. The sun felt good, so he pulled off his shirt and threw it in the bow. He felt good all over, knowing that he could do as he pleased the rest of the morning.
When he reached the edge of the swamp, he would give a hard push with the pole and then lie down in the bottom of the skiff and glide along, looking up into the trees and at the clouds in the sky. It gave him a dizzy feeling to lie in the skiff and watch the white clouds sail by over him. He would lie on his stomach and push the skiff along by pulling his hands through the cool water. He felt more at home in the swamp than any place he had ever been. He couldn’t understand why anyone would be afraid of the swamp like Pa was.
A
