Chapter IX Difficulties and Dangers <>Continued (Though a "bit" lengthy, this incident apparently had a big impact on Philander, as you can see in the end of the chapter. And I suspect because of the impact it did have, is a reason for his going into such detail) It was a delightful day, with no chilly spring wind to mar the beauty and pleasure of the Southern scene; and the self-constituted guide, J., was going fearlessly forward, calling to his followers that they would soon reach Bayou Barbara, when Mr. D. remarked that they had already gone quite far enough to have reached Bayou Barbara. At this J. seemed angry and laughed Mr. D. to scorn. It soon occurred to Mr. Chase that J,. did not know the route and that the party had evidently lost its way, but as the distance was short the situation was not alarming. The say was spent in this way, J. continually calling: "come on; here we are, we shall soon be there." Clouds now obscured the sun and night was at hand. The cry was: "We can go no farther, here is water and we can rest on the dry leaves of last year." The horses were "spancelled" (?) and Jim struck fire; dry limbs of trees were collected and a cheerful fire soon "beat back the darkness" of the Southern night. J. continued his assertion that the morning would show them that all was right, and he would soon being them into Bayou Barbara. Jim, in this emergency, proved himself the mascot of the hungry and weary company. He plucked the large leaves of the magnolia, mixed the Indian meal with water, and placing the leaves upon the ground poured the wet meal and buried it in the hot coals. The bread after baking was delicious, and with broiled ham made an excellent supper. Jim also prepared a sleeping place by stakes stuck in the ground and others laid across for branches of trees to rest upon, leaving one side open to the fire, so that the sleepers could have their feet to the blaze, while protected from mosquitoes by the curtain of boughs. Jim evidently knew his business, which is more than could be said of J. The next morning the latter began his work, and addressing his oratory to Mr. D., seemed to get that unlucky gentleman completely in his power. He held the compass, he owned the horses, the party was forced to follow him. The open woods were covered with prickly briars and they all suffered greatly, their clothes torn and their exposed skins trickling with blood. Thus the miserable day wore on; the only comfort was to cheer their parched throats with sweet blackberries, which in this semi-tropical land were ripe in early May. Mr. D. was apparently bewildered by fatigue and hunger, and more than ever under the power of J. It was middle afternoon when the weary party came to a windfall of trees, where the horses were jumped over some large logs, and this proved a fortunate incident. Going on farther into open ground, poor Mr. D. and the servants sat down in despair. J. mounted his horse and rode of in search of "Cow Bluff," a place of which nobody had ever heard. Mr. Chase made himself keeper of the compass for a short time, and meantime took a solemn vow never to surrender it; in fact he determined to obey the "spirit" and not the "letter" of the law in this present emergency. To do this effectualy he must win the confidence of poor Mr. D.---how? What man could not achieve the good providence of God effected and that very soon. Mr. Chase's coat was torn into tatters, but in one of the pockets he found a sheet of paper and a pencil. His memory kept the direction of their wanderings through the country where they were so unhappily bewildered, and their present position between Amite' and Tickfaw; by asking questions to Mr. D. and the servants, he succeeded in making a rough draft of their track, and found that they had passed the sources of Bayou Barbara twenty miles behind. To this Mr. D. assented, and also agreed with Mr. Chase that their hope was now to steer directly for the Amite' River and then follow it down to Mr. D.'s plantation. At this juncture the inevitable marplot appeared flushed with confident, immediately proposing a plan exactly contrary to that of Mr. Chase, for he "now knew where they were,and they would soon be extricated from all the difficulties. " "Mr. J.," said Mr. Chase, "will you kindly look at this map?" He did so, but had no confidence in it and declared that to proceed in that direction would be to go back they way they came. "Not so" said Mr. Chase, "for we came in that direction,",pointing to the fallen trees over which the horses just had jumped. This J. flatly denied, and there was nothing left but to appeal to the evidence of sight; but on the way to the place poor Mr. D. sat down in despair, saying that he presumed J. was right and that he would trust everything to him. Stung by the evidence of weakness, Mr. Chase insisted that J. should follow him, and when the tracks of the horses and also the foot prints of the men were plainly seen, Mr. Chase said in no very mild tones: "are you convinced that you were wrong, and that I was right?" "Yes, " J. replied. The you own to Mr. D. that you were mistaken?" "NO." "But you must." "I will never own that I have been wrong." This was followed by a fusillade of oaths and abuse. Here Mr. Chase naively remarks that happily no blows were necessary, but that nothing but the expectation of instant chastisement brought him to reason." It was probably about this time that Mr. Chase was taking off what was left of his coat. J. yielded to the inevitable, cooled down, owned his error, promised to tell Mr. D., and agreed that Mr. Chase should carry the compass. The week nerves of Mr. D. were braced by this time, and the wanderers prepared with some courage to spend another night in the dreary wilderness. Jim improvised a shelter from the impending thunderstorm; they scraped the bone of the ham and baked a little meal. The next morning they struck upon the track of a human being, and soon came to a deserted Indian camp, and shortly afterwards to the banks of a stream which Mr. D. said was not the Amite'. Here they found the remains of a dwelling, and as they supposed the stream was a branch of the Amite'. they proposed to build a raft to float them thither. Finding that the cypress logs were too much decayed, this plan was impossible, and they gave up in a weary despair, hungry and fainting. One of the party suggested that possibly human beings might answer to a signal; accordingly the rifle was loaded as heavily it could bear, and some one gave a loud whoop. After the third repetition there was a distinct reply. At length, after a hush of beating hearts and strained nerves, from around a point of great trees, borne on two pieces of logs, came the deliverance. After the first joy, questions were asked and answered; they found they were fifty miles from Bayou Barbara, a mile from the Amite' River, and ten miles from Galeston. Three of the party embarked on the log raft, their new-found friend went back for the servants, and the horses were left to feed on the fresh grass in the clearing. The found that the kind man who had rescued them was himself in a sore strait. After bringing this large party of hungry men into his home, which was a mere tent covered with palmetto leaves, he said his provisions were almost gone, a sick child was on the bed made of tule' reeds, and his wife had gone for food and medicine for the child. There was nothing to do but to go on to the next house. He said as they left: "You will have to cross or wade up to your waist in the bayou, and as it is growing dark, you must each light a piece of candle wood, of which I have plenty, and keep close together, holding up your torches, and the alligators will be frightened and will not touch you." "How far is it across the bayou?" said one. "Not more than forty yards; there are some deep holes, but none above the midriff." Dismal comfort this! A trail led them to the bayou! Now then! The waters were black as ink, and the shadowy trees heightened the ghastly effect under the fitful glare of the torches. Not to linger over the fearful plunge, --- in they went! The water,dark and slimy, creeping to their hips, then to the breasts of the tallest, and now the snorting of the alligators and the shrieks of the company added to the horror of the adventure. But they got across, though in a pitiable plight, much the worse for the wear. Happily they found food and shelter, a good supper, and clean bed of corn husks at Mr. Bowers's. Meanwhile Captain C., having transacted his business at Bookters Springs, returned to Rome; finding neither his friend nor Mr. Chase there, he became alarmed for their safety. A large party was to start out the following morning for their relief, when happily they returned, in a state better imagined than described. Mr. Chase seems to reflect upon this unfortunate outing as only an "ideal" and not a real pursuit of health, and to regret that outside of his duty he had sought pleasure and change which he should not have done. Had he found rest and refreshment which he doubtless needed, he might, in the future life of strenuous and all-absorbing work, have given more time to recreation, and to the enjoyment of the society of who loved him and would gladly have soothed him into rest. The truth is that he never, after this, spent another hour for pleasure only in all his life. But for all that, no man's presence was more genial or more eagerly sought. END! Chapter IX Harriet M. Chase hatchase@uswest.net