“You captain, Amos?” replied James, with much surprise.

“Yes, I am captain; and I should be right glad to hire you.”

“Driver! that is, I drive the horses?” asked James, inquiringly.

“That is just it; not so hard as chopping wood.”

“Where do you go to?”

“To Pittsburg.”

“What do you carry?”

“Copper ore.”

“I think I will engage, Captain Letcher,” continued James, repeating the title of his cousin, to see how it sounded. “How much will you pay me?”

“Twelve dollars a month; that is what we pay drivers.”

“I’ll take the position, Captain Letcher, and do the best I can.”

“And I shan’t ask you to do any better than that,” said Amos, as facetiously as James had repeated his title.

“We start to-morrow morning,” added the captain, “You will not lose much time.”

“So much the better,” answered James, thinking himself quite fortunate, on the whole.

The canal at that time was a great thoroughfare between Lake Erie and the Ohio River. Copper mining was carried on extensively on Lake Superior, and the ore was brought down to Cleveland in schooners, and from thence was taken to Pittsburg by canal. The name of the canal boat commanded by Captain Letcher was “Evening Star,” and its capacity was seventy tons. It was manned with two steersmen, two drivers, a bowman, and a cook, besides the captain—seven men in all. The bowman’s business was to make the locks ready, and to stop the boat as it entered the lock, by throwing the bowline, that was attached to the bow of the boat, around the snubbing post. The drivers were furnished with two mules each, which were driven one before the other; one driver with his mules serving a given number of hours, then giving place to the other, and going on board with his mules.

Boatmen, as a class, were rough fellows then. “Profane, coarse, vulgar, whisky-drinkers,” describes them exactly. Rum and tobacco were among their necessaries of life, about as much so as bread or meat. They cared nothing for morals and religion, and often made them the butt of ridicule. The best fellow was the one who could drink the most whisky and sing the worst songs. Of course, such fellows were no company for James. The contrast between him and one of this class was very marked. It was a new and hard school for him.

At sunrise on the following morning, James took his turn at mule-driving, the captain starting him off well by some instructions. The boat was to pass through the first lock before James hitched on. This done, and James stepped directly into the rank of mule-driver. It was going to sea on a small scale, and so there was some fascination about it. And yet he was on the towpath instead of the water, except when he tumbled in. Within an hour James heard the captain: “Hi, Jim! Boat comin’. Steady.”

James knew it as well as the captain, and designed to pass the boat with signal success. But somehow, he could scarcely tell how, the two drivers got their lines tangled, interrupting the progress of the mules.