It must suffice to say that their trip proved to be a pleasant one. Many incidents occurred which we cannot relate here, nor is it necessary for our purpose. They lived upon the flat-boat, of course. At night they drew it up to the bank of the river, in some favourable spot, and tied it safely; then laid down on their “running board,” as a flat-boat was sometimes called, to sleep. They had no bed, and nothing but a blanket to cover them. True, this was not so great a change for boys who were reared in the wilderness as it would be for boys of this day, who are used to the comforts and conveniences of affluent homes. Still it was a change, and many of their nights were extremely lonely.

Their voyage was not monotonous. The scenery was continually changing, and they frequently passed other boats with their merry crews, and held conversations with people who flocked to the banks of the river from adjacent villages. “Where are you from?” “Where are you bound?” “What are you loaded with ?” were questions that they frequently had to answer.

The days were not all sunshine. Heavy storms sometimes descended upon them, and they had to exert themselves to the utmost to keep their little craft right side up. Day after day they were drenched with rain, and still they must keep on the voyage. Violent storms sometimes raged at night, the wind blowing almost a hurricane, and the rain pouring down in torrents, and still there was no alternative,—they must make their bed on their little boat and take the pelting of the storm. Those were times that tried their spirit, and yet they had no complaints to utter. Never for a moment did Abraham wish he had not undertaken the voyage. The object of his expedition had taken complete possession of his soul.

At Madame Bushane’s plantation, six miles below Baton Rouge, they had an adventure that is worthy of rehearsal here. The boat was tied up, and the boys were fast asleep in the stern, when footsteps on board awoke them. After listening a moment Abraham whispered,—

“Foul play, Allen! A gang of niggers come to rob us!”

Thinking to frighten them away, Allen shouted, “Bring the guns, Abe, shoot ’em.”

But the negroes did not flee, and the silence was as oppressive as the darkness.

“Trouble for us,” said Abraham, in a low tone, as he sprang to his feet and put his hand upon a billet of wood. “We must fight for our lives. Come.”

Waiting and listening again for a moment, and hearing nothing, Abraham cried out:

“Who’s there?” No response.

“Who’s there?” he called, with more emphasis.

The voices of several negroes, in threatening tones, responded.

“What are you here for, you rascals?” thundered Abraham. “Be off with yourselves, or we’ll throw you into the river!” And he dashed after them in the darkness, followed by Allen. The negroes stood their ground armed with cudgels, and a fearful battle began at once.

“Kill them!” shouted Abraham to Allen. “They mean to kill us. Knock the scoundrels into the water.”

And the clubs flew, and heavy blows were dealt back and forth, until the contest became so close and hot that clubs were useless, and a hand-to-hand fight was inevitable. For ten minutes or more the conflict raged spattering the deck with blood, and threatening the saddest results. At length, however, Abraham threw one of the number into the river, when the others leaped from the boat upon the shore.

“Let’s after them !” shouted Abraham,so thoroughly aroused and excited as to banish all fear. “Show them no quarter.”