“TELL me, what was the oddest experience you ever had?” said a friend of mine one day, upon the cars going West.

I had been “spinning yarns” to him, as the sailors say, for the last hundred miles of our journey, concerning a variety of queer happenings met with in the life of a journalistic Free-lance during the past ten years.

“Well, now, that’s a hard question to answer,” said I: “give me five minutes to think. Let’s see—did I ever tell you about my cruise with Paul Boyton?”

Paul Boyton is the man, you know, with the rubber life-saving rig; has rescued lots of people from drowning; floated down most of the rivers of Europe and a good many in this country. My night’s trip with him was about the strangest adventure that I could recall.

I first met Boyton at one of the towns upon the St. John’s river in Florida. We were having a game of billiards together, when some whim prompted me to say:

“Mr. Boyton, I’d like to take a cruise with you sometime.”

To my surprise, and perhaps not exactly to my liking, he at once assented.

“Why, that’s easily done. I always have a spare suit along. We can go to-morrow, if you like.”

Several of my acquaintances were within hearing, and I saw they would have a laugh at my expense if I backed down; so I responded with equal promptitude:

“All right, just count me in; but say, I don’t want to leave from here. The whole town will be down at the wharf watching me floating about like a sick turtle. That would never do.”

“Oh,” said the jolly captain, “I’ll fix that. You shall have a paddle, and when you are tired I’ll tow you; besides, we will start after dark if you want to; we can go down with the tide. It will be running out at a lively rate about then.”

Now I had no notion I would be taken up so suddenly by Captain Boyton; and although I did my best to look happy at the prospect, I am afraid it was a sorry effort.

A man in Texas described to me, once, his feelings after engaging to fight a duel; and I suppose that my sensations and reflections were, during the succeeding twenty-four hours, not unlike his. I lay in bed that night and thought of the watery couch that had been chosen for my next resting-place.

It was a long, very long night, full of forebodings and regrets. In the morning the clerk of the hotel kindly inquired if I wished my effects sent home by express, or detained until my friends could arrive “for the body;” the folks at the breakfast-table rallied me about it; and some of my acquaintances made bets that I would back out. When I went down the main street it seemed as though every one was pointing a finger at me, with a look that said plainly:

“That’s the fellow that’s going to commit suicide to-night!”

It was about half-past six in the evening when we emerged from a building close beside the water, the captain leading, and his victim, as he humorously called me, following close behind, escorted by a single lantern and a group of friends. The lantern cast a gloomy ray out upon the black surface of the river, and gave the two principal figures in their rubber disguises the aspect of some fabled amphibious monsters.

The suits were made in two parts, joined at the waist by a round iron band, over which the rubber-cloth was so well secured as to be quite water-tight. The head was covered by a hood, concealing all but the eyes, mouth, and nose. In the back of the head-piece there was an air-chamber, which, when filled, gave the voyager a very comfortable pillow. Along the sides were two more large air-chambers, and still a couple below, to support the legs.

Just as soon as we were in, or rather upon, the water, all sense of trepidation vanished. As the tide drifted us away from the noisy group upon the wharf and into the darkness, I was able to wave my paddle and reply to their repartee right heartily. I felt quite happy at the novelty of the thing; but wait—one of the boys shouts:

“Look out as you pass the point. I saw a big ‘’gator’ there yesterday. Keep towards the middle!”

Alligators! I hadn’t, in all my wild forebodings, taken them into consideration. A creepy sensation pervaded my back and travelled down to my toes. “What if—oh! I wish he hadn’t shouted that,” thought I.

“Well, at any rate the captain’s ahead; they’ll get him first, and maybe I’ll have a chance while they are lunching from him!” So I turned around and remarked casually:

“I guess, Cap. you had better keep a little ahead. You know the way better than I do!”

But somehow the captain had disappeared. I shouted, and paddled rapidly in the direction I supposed him to be. No answer!

“I believe the alligators have got him already,” thought I; and you should have seen the way that paddle went through the water, driving me back toward the distant wharf where the lantern still twinkled. My foot encountered something.

Oh, horrors! what a yell I gave! You can wager that brief second will never be forgotten. No, sir! But it was only a stray log; and just then the captain’s merry laugh resounded over the water close at hand, as he came floating toward me, delighted with the success of his trick; and he began to sing a song of his own composing, improvising the music and splashing his paddle in time to his melody:

The echoes of the refrain died away among the woods of the far opposite shore, startling a brood of wild fowl from their rest in the sedge of the bayou.

Now the captain turned and said, “Let’s give ’em a rocket!”

I have forgotten to tell you that the captain had in tow a miniature craft, which he fondly called Baby Mine. It was made of tin, and was altogether a miraculous sort of boat, as I soon discovered, for it held all sorts of things one might want for comfort upon or in the water.

Baby Mine was entirely decked in, having a tin “hatch,” into which the captain put his hand and produced a small lamp, which was fitted to a groove in the bows. This was lighted by means of matches, and a rocket next appeared. The latter was fixed in an upright position upon Baby Mine. The captain held the boat with one hand and touched off the rocket with the other.

Whiz-z-z-z-z!

And away it sped into the black sky above, and then:

Bang!

A myriad of tiny sparkles flew outward and then fell slowly, streaking the sky for a moment with a rainbow of fire. We could see in the pallid light the group that still lingered upon the wharf, half a mile away.

“Now,” said Boyton, “let’s have a little stage effect.”

So he took from the interior of Baby Mine a tin saucer and a wooden float, as well as some powder in a small bottle. He poured a little of the latter upon the dish and set it upon the float. A match was applied to a short fuse. As soon as ignited, the powder cast a brilliant lurid glow over the wavelets, and we seemed to be floating in a literal sea of blood. In the midst of this—shall I ever forget that ludicrous sight?—was the captain, grimacing out of his hood like some horrid satyr, and wagging his two black paws like a great pair of ears. I can’t do the subject justice. Perhaps you may have dreamed of some such personage after taking a late and too hearty supper.

All of this time the captain had been standing upright in the water, head and shoulders out, looking as firm as though he was upon the bottom, although I knew the river must be at least forty feet deep where we were.

“Now you must learn how to stand,” said he; and after a few failures I was able to take an upright position or lie down at will.

The tide had soon carried us beyond the point and its fabled alligators, at which the captain laughed with contempt.

“Look at this knife,” cried he. “I’ve killed sharks with this, and wouldn’t be afraid to try it on an alligator.” He produced a long, peculiar Turkish blade from his belt, and made a lunge at an imaginary saurian.

The moon had now cleared the low-hanging mists of the night, and we could see our course fairly well. Ahead of us we noticed a second point, and oh, listen! out of its reeds there came the sound of some heavy body, and something black moved from the shore. It made an ominous splashing as it came towards us. Even the brave captain, forgetful of his knife and boast, eyed it dubiously. I shook all over; the water seemed to have suddenly become as cold as ice. Just then the captain’s cheerful laugh came like music to my ears.

“That isn’t an alligator;” he whispered, “it’s a darkey in a dug-out. Keep quiet, and we’ll have some fun.”

The captain quickly and silently produced his pan and red fire. We floated like logs on the water until the boatman had almost reached us, and then a sudden and unaccountable blaze sprang out of the waters before his horrified gaze, while two undoubted demons emerged and waved their arms towards him with horrid groans.

It was enough—far more than enough. With a screech of terror the black man sprang from his boat and struck out for shore, uttering dismal entreaties to “good Mister Debbil” not to “ketch him yet,” with every plunge; and despite our calls, he broke through the reeds, clambered up the bank, and was soon lost to hearing in the dense forest.

Sometimes, when I think of it, I wonder if that chap is running yet; but I guess he brought up somewhere, for we heard soon afterwards that there was a great gathering of the negroes, and that one of their speakers had seen a couple of monsters rising out of the waters of the St. John’s, commanding him to tell the people the world was coming to an end.

“Now that was rather lively, hey?” mused the captain; “but I’m sorry we scared him so. I wonder what’s in his boat? We’re pirates now, to all intents and purposes, and may as well take our plunder. A bag of potatoes—no, oranges, just what I wanted. No wonder he ran so—he’s been into one of the groves over there. I wonder if it’s stealing to steal from a thief? Let’s have some supper. I nearly forgot about supper.”

A loose plank was taken from the dug-out, and out of the wonderful depths of Baby Mine emerged the following items:

• A quart bottle of cold coffee,
• A can of condensed milk,
• Some loaf-sugar,
• A tin box of cheese,
• Four biscuits,
• A pot of marmalade,
• Some chipped beef,
• A half-dozen boiled eggs,
• Pickles, pepper and salt,
• Spoons,
• Knives,
• Tin cups,
• Etc.

“The company will please sit down, and excuse the holes in the cloth, and not put their elbows on the table,” said the jolly captain, as he held the coffee over the lamp while I ‘set’ the table.

“Now, here we go! What an appetite I’ve got! Don’t lean back in your chair, my boy, one of the legs is gone; you might upset. I wish that chap had stayed. He might have taken tea with us, at least. Halloo! I’ve struck bottom. We’re right in shore. I guess the tide’s about ebb!” and so the merry fellow rattled on, taking a look at his watch, which hung upon some peg in the cabin of Baby Mine.

What a surpassingly beautiful place we had drifted into! A cove, surrounded upon three sides by great water oaks that bent their long arms down towards the tide, draped in sad but rich festoons of gray Spanish moss. The pale forms of dead cypress trees, swathed in wild grape-vines, leaned over, and fragrant magnolia branches mingled their dark and glossy leaves through all the fairy tracery of branch and palm, displayed like dark embroidery against the moonlit heavens. How I wished the boys could be there to see us now!

It was altogether the queerest supper I ever swallowed. From the still well-stored depths of the tin boat the captain produced a cigar-case, and presently we reclined at ease upon our aqueous couch, waiting for the tide to run in again. What tales the captain told that night, as we lay there! what recitals of his adventures in other lands; of receptions by monarchs; of his famous voyage down the terrible and mysterious Tagus; of the queer people he met in the Spanish provinces; of his feats in Russia—why! I could fill a book with them.

About two o’clock we found ourselves drifting out into the river again, and were soon making good headway towards home. For an hour we paddled side by side, but my unaccustomed arms began to fail, and then the captain unwound a blue-fish line from a reel and tied it to my foot, so he towed me along; and released from the need of action, I lay upon my snug air-pillow and watched the waning moon.

Just as the early tints began to paint the eastern sky, foretelling the coming of sunrise (will you believe me?), I actually fell asleep.

When I aroused myself it was quite light and we were passing the last point; and there, upon a log, lay stretched out my friend’s alligator, gazing sleepily at us, but never deigning to move.

I wonder if he realized what a dainty meal he might have had!