CHAPTER VI.--THE DISMAL CANAL. |The waggon was loaded with barrels and bags, and plainly Mr. Todd was taking produce to some market. The great lean mules hung their heads and flopping ears hear the ground. “Hiop!” said Mr. Todd. “Here you be! An' the cap'n pine blank mad like a teeter end hornet! Well, sirs, I'm s'prised!” Calhoun went up calmly, as if he had naturally supposed Mr. Todd would be resting his mules about there. I remember that Calhoun once said to me: “If a man expects corn for dinner, and finds it's turnips, what will he do? It depends on the man, Bennie. I generally eat turnips.” And in the way of a figure of speech, he did, taking events easily, as they came to him. “Going my way!” said Calhoun, “I declare! And here's Bennie Cree with cramps in his legs and crimps in his chest, just waiting for you.” “Why, get aboard,” cried Mr. Todd. “Get aboard.” And presently we were riding comfortably, Calhoun beside Mr. Todd, and I on a bag behind that had something lumpy inside it. “Mad, was he?” said Calhoun. “So as to miss his boat?” “Not he. No, sir. But he went off r'arin' an' tearin' like he'd caught the Old Boy. He cer'nly did. He ac' rippanacious. He say you two Yanks fool him both ends, an' he'd plough up Vaginia an' sow grass seed but he'd get you. He did so.” “Offered a reward, did he? Say, about a hundred apiece. Course, he isn't foolish. More, was it?” “Jemima! How----” Mr. Todd looked startled and suspicious. “Left some of his men, too? Course he did. And if they catch us you don't get the reward. That's what's in it for you.” “Hiop! No, that's so.” “And where are you bound for now, Mr. Todd?” “Canal,” said Mr. Todd, seeming a little subdued. “Going to ship market stuff to Norfolk?” “You're a clean guesser,” grumbled Mr. Todd. “Cleanest I ever see. I was goin' to take it there myself.” “I see. Norfolk's blockaded. You're going to take a boat load by the Swamp Canal. Use your own mules, maybe. Good idea.” “Jemima!” said Mr. Todd, “you're a clean guesser.” The old negro sat on a barrel, looking down at me, so bent over that his solemn, wrinkled face, with its fringe of dusty grey beard, was near his knees. He gave a soft chuckle and motioned to the two men in front. “Marse Tommy, he gettin' he min' wukkin'. Oomm! He studyin'! Don' git no fish 'way fom _him_. No-o-o!” He began to hug his knees with pleasure at thinking how clever Mr. Todd was about to be; and so we were believing very earnestly, both of us, each in the greater brilliancy of his own hero. “Dey's oodles an' oodles o' folks meek out dey play kiyi wi' Marse Tommy, an' hit tu'n out quar. I don' know, but hit peahs to me dey's pow'ful misfo'tu-nate.” Turpentine shook his head and chuckled again. “Well,” said Calhoun, “you're after that reward naturally.” “Oh!” said Mr. Todd, “'tain't likely I'd get it, no, other folks bein' smarte'n me.”