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Down South or Yacht Adventure in Florida

CHAPTER XXVI. ON BOARD OF THE WETUMPKA. The Garbrooks were exceedingly pleasant people. Miss Garbrook, without being pretty, was a very sensible girl, and our young ladies liked her very much. The time had apparently come to part when we anchored at the Springs. The young ladies would not consider it; and then came an invitation for our party to visit Mr. Garbrook's orange plantation on Five-Mile Creek. It was accepted; and the next day Cornwood piloted us up that stream as far as the depth of water would permit, and the Gazelle took them the rest of the way. It was a delightful house, with a beautiful garden, and ten acres of orange-trees, all in full blossom, as fragrant as the boudoir of a belle. We dined on what our host called Florida fare, consisting mainly of a roasted ham and spring chickens, with oranges, cooked and uncooked, in every conceivable form. We enjoyed the repast and the hospitality of the plantation, and regretted that we could not remain as long as our friends desired. Then came the question of parting, and again the young ladies protested. Miss Nellie must go with them. Owen at once invited the family to go with us up the river. A long discussion followed; and the Garbrooks decided to go if we would wait till the next morning. This was agreed to; and I sent word to the mate of the Sylvania of the change in the time of sailing. The ladies remained at the house overnight, and the gentlemen returned to the steamer in the Gazelle. At half past six the little steamer brought the ladies and the baggage of the Garbrooks on board. We got under way immediately, and in less than half an hour we were standing up the St. Johns. This addition to the number of our passengers made "a new deal" of the state-rooms and berths in the cabin. I was asked to assign them as I thought proper, and Owen told me not to consider him, for he would go into the forward cabin if necessary. Colonel Shepard and his wife retained one of the large state-rooms, and the other was assigned to Mr. Garbrook and his wife. The other two state-rooms were of good size, and had a bedstead three and a half feet wide in each. One of these was given to Miss Garbrook, and Miss Edith and Miss Margie volunteered to occupy the other, declaring that it was quite large enough for both of them. Mr. Tiffany, Gus Shepard, and Owen had each a berth, without disturbing Chloe. This arrangement was satisfactory to all the passengers. The steamer went along at her usual speed of ten miles an hour. After breakfast, Owen and the young ladies took possession of the pilot-house, and the rest of the party were seated under the awning on the forecastle. These places afforded a view of both sides of the river, and of the long prospect ahead. "Tocoi," said the pilot, pointing to the left. "This is the place where passengers are landed who go to St. Augustine. A railroad, fifteen miles in length, takes travellers the rest of the way." We could see nothing but a few sheds, and Tocoi itself was of no consequence. The river was just about what we had seen all the way up from Jacksonville. At ten o'clock we ran up to the wharf at Pilatka. This is a thriving town of from fifteen hundred to two thousand inhabitants, and, like every other place on the river, is a resort for invalids from the North. After dinner the party landed and explored the town, which is not very different from any other Florida towns we had seen. It had pleasant houses, surrounded with orange gardens. I directed Washburn to anchor the Sylvania at some distance from the wharf in the river, partly to keep out of the way of steamers arriving, and partly to make sure that Griffin Leeds did not get on board of her. I had seen nothing of him, though I fancied he was in Green Cove Springs while we were there. The next day was Sunday; all our passengers, and some of the ship's company, went to church. On Monday morning we sailed for Welaka, twenty-five miles farther up the river. It is opposite the mouth of the Ocklawaha River. The St. Johns was only one-third of a mile wide at this point, and began to look more like a stream and less like a lake. Colonel Shepard had chartered a small steamer for our trip up the Ocklawaha and the upper St. Johns. On Saturday afternoon, Washburn, with Ben Bowman and Dyer Perkins, had started for Jacksonville to bring the Wetumpka, for that was the name of the craft, up to this point. She was a nearly new vessel, which the owners had built for an extra boat, but the scarcity of engineers had prevented them from putting her on the route at that time, though they had a couple on their way from a northern city. Steamboat business was exceedingly brisk at this time of the year on the upper rivers, and the owners of the line had several boats running on them. The Colonel had obtained the Wetumpka only by agreeing to run her himself, and by paying a large price for her, quite as much as she could have made after paying her expenses, if she had gone on the line. I was a little uneasy when I found she was not at Welaka. She did not draw over two feet of water when not loaded, and I was confident she could come through with Washburn at the wheel. I had left it to the mate of the Sylvania to start with his charge at whatever time best suited him. Both Moses Brickland and Ben Bowman had been offered double the wages I paid them when we arrived at Jacksonville, and had refused the offer. I could think of nothing but the want of an engineer that would prevent Washburn from coming through on time. While I was thinking about it, and worrying a little, I heard some one on deck say she was coming; and I felt ashamed of myself for doubting, even for a moment, the loyalty of Ben Bowman. I left my room and went aft. I saw one of those peculiar Florida boats coming around the bend below us. I sent for my spy-glass, and soon made out the name of the Wetumpka on the pilot-house. In ten minutes more she came alongside the Sylvania. I had not seen the craft I was to command before, and I had no little curiosity to look her over. Washburn received me when I went on board, and we shook hands, for we had been separated for nearly two days, a longer time than for months before. "What makes you so late? I was afraid something had happened to you," I began. "Are we not on time?" asked the mate. "We were to be here on Monday forenoon; and it is only eleven o'clock." "I thought you were to be here in the morning." "We could not be here very early in the morning without running on Sunday, or incurring the risk of running aground in the dark," replied Washburn with a yawn. "The moon did not rise till one this morning. We slept on board last night, and left Jacksonville at one. We have kept her going very lively all the time." "All right; I am entirely satisfied. What sort of a craft is she?" I continued. "She is not such a craft as the Sylvania, but she is all right for a river boat. She has made very good time," replied Washburn, as he seated himself on the forward deck. He looked tired, and gaped several times as he was talking to me. He looked as though he had had a hard time of it. "I hope you are not sick, Washburn," I said, in commiserating tones. "Not at all. I slept about four hours last night, and have been at the wheel of the boat ten hours on a stretch. That's all that ails me; and I shall be as good as new when I have had a nap." "Have you had anything to eat to-day?" I asked, thinking the crew of the Wetumpka had been on duty so that they had not had time to get any meals. "Plenty to eat. I laid in a stock of cold ham, chickens, and coffee for the trip." "You and those who came up with you had better go on board of the Sylvania and turn in, while the rest of us transfer the baggage and stores to this boat," I added. I called Moses, and asked him to take charge of the engine of the river boat, and sent the three hands from her to their bunks. The curiosity of the passengers and crew of the Sylvania was equal to my own. The party from the cabin rushed on board of the Wetumpka as soon as they found she was alongside, and we all went into an examination of her. She was a "twin boat:" that is, she had two hulls, like a "catamaran." They were flat-bottomed, so as to draw but little water. On these two hulls were laid a platform, which came to a point at the bow, and projected some distance forward of the stems of the two boats. On the main deck, no one would suspect that she was composed of two boats. The paddle-wheel was between the two hulls, and near the stern of the craft. The engine was on deck, and the upper part of the paddle-wheel was boxed up above the main deck. She had a broad opening on each side of her lower deck, through which she could receive her wood and freight. Forward of these doors were the quarters for the crew on one side, and the kitchen and ice-house on the other. Above the main deck was the saloon deck, with the pilot-house at the forward end of it. In front of this was a platform on which the passengers could sit, the pilot looking out over their heads. In the saloon were eight state-rooms on a side, which were small, but very comfortably fitted up. At the stern was a pantry and a little smoking-room. The saloon was neatly furnished, and I thought our passengers could be very comfortable on board of the Wetumpka for a couple of weeks. The steward and his force were busy getting ready for dinner; but I set the deck-hands to moving the baggage of the passengers at once. After dinner the stores were removed on board of the river steamer, and by two in the afternoon we were ready to start up the Ocklawaha, which was to be the first of the two trips. We towed the Sylvania out into deep water, anchored her, and left her in charge of Ben Bowman and Dyer Perkins, for one engineer and one fireman were sufficient for the trip: Cornwood took the wheel, and we ran into the Ocklawaha. In a few hours we were in the woods, the trees of which were loaded with trailing moss, which, however, was no new thing to us, as we had seen it in Savannah, and all the way up the St. Johns. In places the shores were submerged, but the channel of the river was clearly defined by the shrubs and masses of vines, many of them covered with flowers of various colors. The water was very clear, and not a breath of air ruffled its surface. Everything above it was reflected as in a mirror, and the young ladies were in ecstasies at the beauty of the forest, the vines, and the water. Occasionally the river widened out into a broad pool, with sandy shores. In one of these we encountered a raft of lumber, on its way to Jacksonville. The men on it were wiry, hatchet-faced fellows, good-natured and easy-going. Just before sunset we came to Silver Spring Run, into which the pilot turned the boat. If the water had been clear before, it was perfectly transparent in this run, or stream flowing from the spring. We could see the fish in the water, sixty feet down. After dark we moored to a wharf for the night. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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