The Story of Paul Boyton: Voyages on All the Great Rivers of the World. Paul Boyton
deeply mourned.
The Captain secured passage for Paul on a Northern bound boat and bought him many little presents ere wishing him God speed. Among them and prized most highly, were two red birds and a young alligator. At five o'clock that evening came the order: "All aboard! Haul in your gang- planks!" Just then a weird musical chant was struck up by the slaves working on the levee, which was answered by the boat's crew, as she backed out into the river and headed away on her long northern trip. Paul had snug quarters and spent much of his time feeding the red birds and playing with his alligator. He saw great fun ahead in the tricks he hoped to spring on his sisters and friends with the cunning little reptile. Whenever the boat made a landing, he was always on deck watching the negroes, as they rolled bales of cotton down the steep bluffs or struggled with the refractory hogs who refused to come aboard. The loud commands and fierce oaths of the mate made him feel very grateful that he was not a roustabout. About five weeks from the time he had so thoughtlessly embarked on the coal fleet, he stood hesitatingly half a block from his mother's home, holding in his hand the cage containing his red birds, while snugly stowed away in the bosom of his shirt was his much cherished pet, the alligator. He was not sure of the reception he would receive; but at length he steeled his nerves for whatever was in store and made a rush for the house. The delighted mother folded him in her arms and covered his face with kisses. His brothers and sisters grouped around with words of welcome for the prodigal.
"Thank God that you are safe home again, dear Paul," exclaimed his mother, as she embraced him again and again.
"But what's this?"
She started back, for she had felt something squirming inside of his shirt.
"Oh, that's my dear little alligator," and Paul put in his hand and pulled out his pet. His sisters ran screaming away. His mother gazed sternly at him and said:
"Put out that ugly reptile!" Paul placed it tenderly on the floor beside the red birds' cage and received from his fond mother a well merited castigation. That evening, however, all was forgotten and Paul entertained his family with stories of his adventures and was doubtlessly looked upon by the little group, as a wonderful traveler or a hardened young liar.
Paul's father, a traveling man, came home a few days after this. He had a long consultation with his wife regarding the escapade of their venturesome son. They came to the decision that they had better move from the vicinity of the river and so wean him from his unnatural love of the water. A week later found the family at the head of Federal Street, about as far as they could get away from the river and still remain in the city. Paul spent his last night before moving on one of his friends' woodpiles; (his own had been pirated during his absence,) and bitterly bemoaned the fate that took him so far away from his beloved element.
A rigid discipline was now pursued in regard to Paul. He was given a certain space of time to go and return from school. After that he was expected home and made to stay there. He studied hard all winter and advanced rapidly. But he had to cross a bridge going to and coming from school. He would always stop to gaze into the water he loved so well, even if had to run to make up for lost time. Spring came on and the longing increased to enjoy again the piney smell of the newly arrived rafts, to dive into the clear depths, and revisit his old friends the "pavers." He took off his shoes and felt the water's temperature. "In two weeks," he thought with rapture, "In two weeks I can take a plunge."
In less than two weeks he enjoyed this plunge and finally remembering that he had to be at home by four o'clock, he scrambled onto a raft and discovered that his body was covered with some unknown, greasy, tar-like substance. He could not get it off, and at last asked a raftsman, who stood by, what it was:
"Why, son," answered the lumberman; "That is petroleum. Don't you know that they struck oil at the head of the river and great quantities are pouring into the Alleghany above. It will be a long time before the river will be as clear as she used to be, and you, my little man, will have a nice job getting that off your skin."
When Paul reached home, his mother's scrutiny revealed the fact that something was wrong.
"Have you been swimming again, despite your promise?"
Paul murmured something that might be either "yes" or "no." His hat removed, showed his hair quite damp further investigation revealed the fact that his shirt was on wrong side out, while round his neck was a well defined dark line from the oil cakes he struck while swimming against the stream. His sister Teresa revenged herself that evening for many a raid on her dolls by scrubbing him into the appearance of a boiled lobster, so that he would be neat and presentable for school next day. Even this lesson did not teach him. One warm day while on his way to school, he lingered so long on the bridge that the tower clock struck ten, and then he argued that it would be useless to go until the afternoon session, when he could easily hoodwink his teacher with an excuse. But the afternoon came, and the wild boy was still in the water, too deeply interested in the navigation of a plank to realize that he was playing "hookey" and risking its shady consequences. About two o'clock he heard loud cries from the St. Clair Street bridge. Looking up, he saw an excited crowd gathering. The object of their excitement was a little boy who had waded out on a shallow bar above the bridge until he had stumbled into deep water and was being carried away by the strong current. Paul caught one glimpse of him as he disappeared and springing from his plank he swam out with a strong, steady stroke to his assistance. The crowd on the bridge shouted loud cries of encouragement. As Paul reached the spot where the body went down, he could find no traces of him. A man on the bridge shouted:
"A little farther down! A little farther down! I can see him at the bottom."
Paul swam in the direction indicated and at the cry, "there, there," dove to the bottom like a seal. He came directly on the body which was doubled up against a large boulder. He grasped it by the arm and rose with it to the surface. Loud ringing cheers from the crowd above, encouraged him. He swam with one arm, supporting the body with the other. They were being rapidly carried away down the stream, when a boat which had been sent out, reached the almost exhausted boy. Paul and the unconscious boy were taken ashore and conveyed to the back room of a saloon where a doctor soon revived both. He then proposed that, some token of recognition should be presented by the assembled crowd to the brave little fellow who had made the rescue. Paul's hat was taken and soon filled to the brim with silver. Then the two boys were loaded into an express wagon and escorted by a policeman, they started for home. When the wagon reached the house of the boy who had been rescued, the policeman lifted him out carefully and carried him in, while the mother's affrighted cries alarmed the neighborhood. The officer assured her that there was no danger, so she grew calmer and helped to roll her son into a warm blanket and tuck him snugly in bed. The old grandmother, who was blind, heard the story and asked that Paul be brought to her. Her trembling hands were passed over his face and head. She blessed him fervently and then to the delight of the grinning urchins, looking in at the door and to Paul's intense embarrassment, she kissed him several times. At last the policeman told him to come on and Paul and his silver continued their homeward journey. When Mrs. Boyton saw her truant son under police escort, she turned pale, but the officer called out, "Don't be frightened, ma'am, he's all right. You ought to be proud of this boy," and he told her the story of the rescue and handed over the silver. The mother's eye's beamed with pleasure as she listened. She praised her gallant little son and thanked the officer for his kindness. After he was gone she put the silver carefully away and interviewed the hero, as often before, with a shingle.
"Not only for playing hookey," she said; "but for going into the water at all."
The little fellow rescued that day is Thomas McCaffery, now a member of the Alleghany City Fire Department. Many years afterwards he gave Paul a gold medal in remembrance of their first meeting.
In vacation Paul started out to look for work, for with all his wildness he was industrious. He secured a place in a paper box factory at the princely salary of fifty cents a week. His business was to lower great packages of boxes from the upper story to the ground floor. He thought how delightful it would be to go down himself on the rope. One day he induced a small boy who worked near, pasting, to mind the windlass while he descended by hanging on above the usual pits of boxes. The sensation was novel and pleasing and it became exciting when the boy above leaned