Yo' got any 'coon 'bout
yo' pusson?'
"Den she say, snappylike, 'How I gwine get 'coon, yo' fool nigger! No,
sah, I ain't got no 'coon 'ceptin' my ole man wha' I marry yistiddy he
name _Coon_.'"
The shout of laughter that greeted this story was interrupted by the
appearance of Billy Brackett at the door.
"Come out here, boys!" he cried. "There's a steamboat on fire and
coming down the river!"
This startling announcement emptied the "shanty" in a hurry. Even
Binney Gibbs forgot his aches and joined his mates outside.
There was no doubt as to the meaning of the column of flame that turned
the darkness into day behind them. It was so near that they could hear
its ominous roar, while the black forest walls on either side of the
river were bathed in a crimson glow from its baleful light. A vast
cloud of smoke, through which shot millions of sparks, trailed and
eddied above it, while, with the hoarse voice of escaping steam, the
blazing craft sounded its own death-note.
As the monster came tearing down the channel of crimson and gold that
opened and ever widened before it, our raftmates were fascinated by the
sight of its sublime but awful approach. They stood motionless and
speechless until roused to a sudden activity by Billy Brackett's shout
of "Man the sweeps, fellows! She is unmanageable, and headed for us as
straight as an arrow.
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