and it is impossible to prevent it going under the scow, where it sticks and retards progress or emerges to foul our propeller. This morning it is still sticky, showery and slightly foggy; temperature at 9 a. m., 72. When the steamer rocked us the other night Jake and Doctor turned out in their nightgowns to fend off, and then stood leaning over the rail talking for a time. Catch cold, turning out of a warm bed in January? Naw! Whatchergivinus? This terrible winter weather! About 11:30 the boys returned with the tug and new bolts for our coupler. We had hard work getting through the bridge, where the current was fierce; but by 2 p. m. we were in the Mississippi and headed down stream. * * * * * Bayou Sara, Feb. 8, 1904.--We tied up last night in Morgan's Bend, after dark. Started to float all night, but the fog came up, lightning showed in the east, and we thought it wise to take no chances. We had the launch hitched behind and when a steamer passed up quite near, it made her leap and try to get her nose under the overhang, which might have swamped her. This morning we got off at 5 a. m., floating till after breakfast, when we set the old churn at work. Now the sun is up brightly, a breeze freshening up from the east, which is dead ahead just now, and the town in sight. We talk of loading the boat with palmettoes for the St. Louis fair market, and getting a tow north, if we cannot get a fair price for the outfit. By 9 we reached Bayou Sara, where we increased our crew by three of Louisiana's fair ladies, and at 11 resumed our journey. The wind had subsided and we journeyed south over a river smooth as glass. Much driftwood annoyed us, threatening our propeller blades. The poetry of travel today, too warm for the folk to stand in the sun. Historic Port Hudson was soon before us. It is now back from the river, Port Hickey being its successor. Temperature 80 at 2 p. m. This terrible winter! We are counting the miles between us and our dear ones at Baton Rouge. We reached Baton Rouge about 6 p. m., having made over 50 miles, and the longest run of the trip. CHAPTER XXIV. DUCKING AT CATAHOULA LAKE. Prof. Handwerker came down to Memphis, and we went for a duck shoot. We went by rail to Alexandria and chartered a wagon with two sketchy ponies and an aged veteran as driver, who took us about 20 miles to Catahoula Lake. The toll man at the bridge valued our outfit at 40 cents, and collected the entire price each way. The road lay through a lumber country, where the yellow pine was being rapidly cut out. Arriving within a mile of the lake, we concluded to stop with Mr. S., rather than rest our old limbs in the doubtful protection of the tent we had brought.