CHAPTER XV
We judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at thebottom of Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was whatwe was after. We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go wayup the Ohio amongst the free states, and then be out of trouble.
Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for atowhead to tie to, for it wouldn't do to try to run in a fog; but whenI paddled ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn'tanything but little saplings to tie to. I passed the line around oneof them right on the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiffcurrent, and the raft come booming down so lively she tore it out bythe roots and away she went. I see the fog closing down, and it mademe so sick and scared I couldn't budge for most a half a minute itseemed to me--and then there warn't no raft in sight; you couldn't seetwenty yards. I jumped into the canoe and run back to the stern, andgrabbed the paddle and set her back a stroke. But she didn't come. Iwas in such a hurry I hadn't untied her. I got up and tried to untieher, but I was so excited my hands shook so I couldn't hardly doanything with them.
As soon as I got started I took out after the raft, hot and heavy,right down the towhead. That was all right as far as it went, but thetowhead warn't sixty yards long, and the minute I flew by the foot ofit I shot out into the solid white fog, and hadn't no more idea whichway I was going than a dead man.
Thinks I, it won't do to paddle; first I know I'll run into the bankor a towhead or something; I got to set still and float, and yet it'smighty fidgety business to have to hold your hands still at such atime. I whooped and listened. Away down there somewheres I hears asmall whoop, and up comes my spirits. I went tearing after it,listening sharp to hear it again. The next time it come I see I warn'theading for it, but heading away to the right of it. And the next timeI was heading away to the left of it--and not gaining on it mucheither, for I was flying around, this way and that and t'other, but itwas going straight ahead all the time.
I did wish the fool would think to beat a tin pan, and beat it all thetime, but he never did, and it was the still places between the whoopsthat was making the trouble for me. Well, I fought along, and directlyI hears the whoop _behind_ me. I was tangled good now. That wassomebody else's whoop, or else I was turned around.
I throwed the paddle down. I heard the whoop again; it was behind meyet, but in a different place; it kept coming, and kept changing itsplace, and I kept answering, till by and by it was in front of meagain, and I knowed the current had swung the canoe's headdown-stream, and I was all right if that was Jim and not some otherraftsman hollering. I couldn't tell nothing about voices in a fog, fornothing don't look natural nor sound natural in a fog.
The whooping went on, and in about a minute I come a-booming down on acut bank with smoky ghosts of big trees on it, and the current throwedme off to the left and shot by, amongst a lot of snags that fairlyroared, the current was tearing by them so swift.
In another second or two it was solid white and still again. I setperfectly still then, listening to my heart thump, and I reckon Ididn't draw a breath while it thumped a hundred.
I just give up then. I knowed what the matter was. That cut bank wasan island, and Jim had gone down t'other side of it. It warn't notowhead that you could float by in ten minutes. It had the big timberof a regular island; it might be five or six miles long and more thanhalf a mile wide.
I kept quiet, with my ears cocked, about fifteen minutes, I reckon. Iwas floating along, of course, four or five miles an hour; but youdon't ever think of that. No, you _feel_ like you are laying deadstill on the water; and if a little glimpse of a snag slips by youdon't think to yourself how fast _you're_ going, but you catch yourbreath and think, my! how that snag's tearing along. If you think itain't dismal and lonesome out in a fog that way by yourself in thenight, you try it once--you'll see.
Next, for about a half an hour, I whoops now and then; at last I hearsthe answer a long ways off, and tries to follow it, but I couldn't doit, and directly I judged I'd got into a nest of towheads, for I hadlittle dim glimpses of them on both sides of me--sometimes just anarrow channel between, and some that I couldn't see I knowed wasthere because I'd hear the wash of the current against the old deadbrush and trash that hung over the banks. Well, I warn't long loosingthe whoops down amongst the towheads; and I only tried to chase them alittle while, anyway, because it was worse than chasing aJack-o'-lantern. You never knowed a sound dodge around so, and swapplaces so quick and so much.
I had to claw away from the bank pretty lively four or five times, tokeep from knocking the islands out of the river; and so I judged theraft must be butting into the bank every now and then, or else itwould get further ahead and clear out of hearing--it was floating alittle faster than what I was.
Well, I seemed to be in the open river again by and by, but I couldn'thear no sign of a whoop nowheres. I reckoned Jim had fetched up on asnag, maybe, and it was all up with him. I was good and tired, so Ilaid down in the canoe and said I wouldn't bother no more. I didn'twant to go to sleep, of course; but I was so sleepy I couldn't helpit; so I thought I would take jest one little cat-nap.
But I reckon it was more than a cat-nap, for when I waked up the starswas shining bright, the fog was all gone, and I was spinning down abig bend stern first. First I didn't know where I was; I thought I wasdreaming; and when things began to come back to me they seemed to comeup dim out of last week.
It was a monstrous big river here, with the tallest and the thickestkind of timber on both banks; just a solid wall, as well as I couldsee by the stars. I looked away down-stream, and seen a black speck onthe water. I took after it; but when I got to it it warn't nothing buta couple of saw-logs made fast together. Then I see another speck, andchased that; then another, and this time I was right. It was the raft.
When I got to it Jim was setting there with his head down between hisknees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steering-oar. Theother oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leavesand branches and dirt. So she'd had a rough time.
I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and began togap, and stretch my fists out against Jim, and says:
"Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn't you stir me up?"
"Goodness gracious, is dat you, Huck? En you ain' dead--you ain'drownded--you's back ag'in? It's too good for true, honey, it's toogood for true. Lemme look at you chile, lemme feel o' you. No, youain' dead! you's back ag'in, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huck--desame ole Huck, thanks to goodness!"
"What's the matter with you, Jim? You been a-drinking?"
"Drinkin'? Has I ben a-drinkin'? Has I had a chance to be a-drinkin'?"
"Well, then, what makes you talk so wild?"
"How does I talk wild?"
"_How?_ Why, hain't you been talking about my coming back, and allthat stuff, as if I'd been gone away?"
"Huck--Huck Finn, you look me in de eye; look me in de eye. _Hain't_you ben gone away?"
"Gone away? Why, what in the nation do you mean? _I_ hain't been goneanywheres. Where would I go to?"
"Well, looky here, boss, dey's sumfn wrong, dey is. Is I _me_, or who_is_ I? Is I heah, or whah _is_ I? Now dat's what I wants to know."
"Well, I think you're here, plain enough, but I think you're atangle-headed old fool, Jim."
"I is, is I? Well, you answer me dis: Didn't you tote out de line inde canoe fer to make fas' to de towhead?"
"No, I didn't. What towhead? I hain't seen no towhead."
"You hain't seen no towhead? Looky here, didn't de line pull loose ende raf' go a-hummin' down de river, en leave you en de canoe behine inde fog?"
"What fog?"
"Why, _de_ fog!--de fog dat's been aroun' all night. En didn't youwhoop, en didn't I whoop, tell we got mix' up in de islands en one unus got los' en t'other one was jis' as good as los', 'kase he didn'know whah he wuz? En didn't I bust up agin a lot er dem islands enhave a turrible time en mos' git drownded? Now ain' dat so,boss--a
in't it so? You answer me dat."
"Well, this is too many for me, Jim. I hain't seen no fog, nor noislands, nor no troubles, nor nothing. I been setting here talkingwith you all night till you went to sleep about ten minutes ago, and Ireckon I done the same. You couldn't 'a' got drunk in that time, so ofcourse you've been dreaming."
"Dad fetch it, how is I gwyne to dream all dat in ten minutes?"
"Well, hang it all, you did dream it, because there didn't any of ithappen."
"But, Huck, it's all jis' as plain to me as--"
"It don't make no difference how plain it is; there ain't nothing init. I know, because I've been here all the time."
Jim didn't say nothing for about five minutes, but set there studyingover it. Then he says:
"Well, den, I reck'n I did dream it, Huck; but dog my cats ef it ain'tde powerfulest dream I ever see. En I hain't ever had no dream b'fo'dat's tired me like dis one."
"Oh, well, that's all right, because a dream does tire a body likeeverything sometimes. But this one was a staving dream; tell me allabout it, Jim."
So Jim went to work and told me the whole thing right through, just asit happened, only he painted it up considerable. Then he said he muststart in and "'terpret" it, because it was sent for a warning. He saidthe first towhead stood for a man that would try to do us some good,but the current was another man that would get us away from him. Thewhoops was warnings that would come to us every now and then, and ifwe didn't try hard to make out to understand them they'd just take usinto bad luck, 'stead of keeping us out of it. The lot of towheads wastroubles we was going to get into with quarrelsome people and allkinds of mean folks, but if we minded our business and didn't talkback and aggravate them, we would pull through and get out of the fogand into the big clear river, which was the free states, and wouldn'thave no more trouble.
It had clouded up pretty dark just after I got on to the raft, but itwas clearing up again now.
"Oh, well, that's all interpreted well enough as far as it goes, Jim,"I says; "but what does _these_ things stand for?"
It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar. Youcould see them first-rate now.
Jim looked at the trash, and then looked at me, and back at the trashagain. He had got the dream fixed so strong in his head that hecouldn't seem to shake it loose and get the facts back into its placeagain right away. But when he did get the thing straightened around helooked at me steady without ever smiling, and says:
"What do dey stan' for? I's gwyne to tell you. When I got all wore outwid work, en wid de callin' for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuzmos' broke bekase you wuz los', en I didn' k'yer no' mo' what becomeer me en de raf'. En when I wake up en fine you back ag'in, all safeen soun', de tears come, en I could 'a' got down on my knees en kissyo' foot, I's so thankful. En all you wuz thinkin' 'bout wuz how youcould make a fool uv ole Jim wid a lie. Dat truck dah is _trash_; entrash is what people is dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren's enmakes 'em ashamed."
Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in therewithout saying anything but that. But that was enough. It made me feelso mean I could almost kissed _his_ foot to get him to take it back.
It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humblemyself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for itafterward, neither. I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and Iwouldn't done that one if I'd 'a' knowed it would make him feel thatway.