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Updated: May 28, 2025
In the silence they heard river voices; murmurings and tones and rhythms and harmonies; and Terabon, who had accumulated a vast store of information from the shanty-boaters, told her some of the simple superstitions with which the river people beguile themselves and add to the interest and difficulties of their lives.
Little hallways and corridors led into dark recesses on either side of the building, and faint lights of different colours showed the way to certain things. Terabon saw a wonderfully beautiful woman, in furs, with sparkling diamonds, and of inimitable grace waiting in a little half-curtained cubby hole; he heard a man ask for "Pete," and caught the word "game" twice.
She brought out her familiar books and compared the masters with her own mind. She could do it there. "Ruskin, Carlyle, Old Mississip', Plato, Plutarch, Thoreau, the Bible, Shelley, Byron, and I, all together, dropping down," she chuckled, catching her breath. "I'm tripping down in that company. And there's Terabon. He's a good sport, too, and he'll be better when I've when I've caught him."
Jet asked, without delicacy. Her cheeks flamed. "Yes!" she whispered. "Terabon took him down to Mendova or Memphis," Despard said. "Carline was was on the cabin and the boat lurched when the steamboat passing drawed. He drapped over and hit a spark plug on the head!" "Was he badly hurt?" "Not much kind of a lump, that's all." She looked down at Fort Pillow Bluff.
The next day was calm all day long, and Terabon went up the bank to shoot squirrels or other woods game; he went almost up to the Plum Point, killed several head of game, and rejoiced in the bayous and sloughs and chutes of a changing land. The following morning he was hailed by Slamey: "Hi i, Terabon! Theh's a shanty-boat up the head of Flower Island Bar jes' drappin' in.
Louis, calmly inquiring into the duties and performance thereof, involving the efforts of 100,000 Negroes, 40,000 mules, 500 contractors, 10,000 government officials, a few hundred pieces of floating plant, and sundry other things which Terabon had conceived were of importance. He had approached the Mississippi River from the human angle. He knew of no other way of approach.
There was something suggestive in their bearing, their scrutiny up and down the river, their standing close to each other as they talked. If Terabon had not suspected them of being pirates, their attitude and actions would have betrayed them. Terabon, after a little while, pulled up the eddy toward them; he was willing to take a long chance. Few men resent a newspaper man's presence.
Half a hundred possibilities occurred to their fertile fancies and replete memories. Men and women who have always led sheltered lives can little understand or know what a pirate must understand and know even to live let alone be successful. "What's Terabon up to?" Despard demanded. "Here he is, drappin' down by Fort Pillow Landing, running around. Where's that girl he had up above New Madrid?
"Oh, he don't want to write about crooks; he wants to write about nice people, society people, and that kind, and big cities. He says it's awful hard to find anybody to write about." "You've got to look to find heroes," Terabon admitted. "I came more than a thousand miles to see a shanty-boat." "You di-i-d? Just to see a shanty-boat!" Carline stared at Terabon in amazement.
Terabon, now well familiar with the river, could easily believe that he was listening to the River Spirit, and his feelings were melancholy. For months he had strained every power of his mind to record the exact facts about the Mississippi, and he put down tens of thousands of words describing and stating what he saw, heard, and knew.
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