The boat was pushed to her utmost, and, in a little less than an hour, when our fuel was about giving out, we made the point, and our cables were out and fastened to trees, alongside of a good-sized wood-pile. “Hollo, Colonel! how d’ye sell your wood _this_ time?” A yellow-faced old gentleman, with a two-weeks’ beard, strings over his shoulders holding up to his arm-pits a pair of copperas-coloured, linsey-woolsey pants, the legs of which reached a very little below the knee, shoes without stockings, a faded, broad-brimmed hat, which had once been black, and a pipe in his mouth, casting a glance at the empty guards of our boat, and uttering a grunt as she rose from fastening our “spring-line,” answered: “Why, Capting, we must charge you _three and a quarter_ THIS _time_.” “The d——l!” replied the Captain, (captains did swear a little in those days); “what’s the odd _quarter_ for, I should like to know? You only charged me _three_ as I went down.” “Why, Capting,” drawled out the wood-merchant, with a sort of leer on his yellow countenance, which clearly indicated that his wood was as good as sold, “wood’s riz since you went down two weeks ago; besides you are awar’ that you very seldom stop going _down_; when you’re going _up_, you’re sometimes obleeged to give me a call, becase the current’s against you, and there’s no other wood-yard for nine miles ahead; and if you happen to be nearly out of fooel, why—” “Well, well,” interrupted the Captain, “we’ll take a few cords, under the circumstances,” and he returned to his game of brag. In about half an hour, we felt the ‘Caravan’ commence paddling again. Supper was over, and I retired to my upper berth, situated alongside, and overlooking the brag-table, where the Captain was deeply engaged, having now the _other_ pilot as his principal opponent. We jogged on quietly, and seemed to be going at a good rate. “How does the wood burn?” inquired the Captain of the mate, who was looking on at the game. “’Tisn’t of much account, I reckon,” answered the mate; “it’s cotton-wood, and most of it green at that—” “Well, Thompson—(three aces again, stranger. I’ll take that X and the small change, if you please—it’s your deal)—Thompson, I say, we’d better take three or four cords at the next wood-yard; it can’t be more than six miles from here; (two aces and a bragger, with the ace! hand over those Vs.)” The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o’clock it was reported to the Captain that we were nearing the wood-yard, the light being distinctly seen by the pilot on duty. “Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords, if it’s good. See to it, Thompson; I can’t very well leave the game now; it’s getting right warm! This pilot’s beating us all to smash.” The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhat vexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at the last wood-yard, _three and a quarter_; but soon again became interested in the game.