XXI. THE WAY BILLY HARRIS DROVE THE DRUM-FISH TO MARKET.

The afternoon of a still, sultry day, found us at the Bankhead spring, on Chaptico Bay, Maryland—Billy Harris, old “Blair,” and myself. Billy was seated on the head of his canoe, leisurely discussing a bone and a slice of bread, the remnant of his mid-day’s repast on the river; old “Blair” was busily engaged in overhauling and arranging the fish that he had taken in the course of the morning: while I, in a state of half-listlessness, half-doziness, was seated on the trunk of an uprooted cedar near the spring, with my head luxuriously reclining against the bank.

“Well, this is about as pooty a fish as I’ve had the handling ov for some time,” remarked old “Blair,” holding up and surveying with much satisfaction a rock about two feet and a half in length.

“Smart rock that,” said Billy, as he measured the fish with his eye. “What an elegint team a couple o’ dozen o’ that size would make!”

“Elegint what, Mr. Harris?” inquired old “Blair,” depositing the fish under the bushes in the bow of his canoe, and turning round towards Billy.

“Why, an elegint team for a man to travel with,” replied Billy. “Did I never tell you ’bout my driving the drums to the Alexandri’ market?” he added, at the same time casting a furtive glance in the direction of the spot where I was seated.

“Well, I’ve hearn a right smart of your exploits, Mr. Harris, in our meetin’s down here on the bay,” said “Blair,” “but I don’t remember ov hearin’ you tell about that.”

“The fact is,” said Billy, “it’s a little out o’ the usual run o’ things, and it’s not every one that I care about telling it to. Some people are so hard to make believe, that there’s no satisfaction in telling them anything; seeing it’s you, though, Lewis, I don’t mind relating that little spree—’specially as the tide won’t serve us up the narrows for some time yet, and Mr. ——, there, seems inclined to do a little napping. Well, to begin at the beginning,” he continued, as old “Blair” assumed the attitude of an attentive listener at the head of his canoe, “it’s just seven years ago the tenth day of this here last month, that I went down to the drumming-ground off the salt-works to try my luck among the thumpers. I know’d the gents were about, for I’d heard ’em drumming the day before while I was out rocking on the outer eend o’ Mills’s; so I got everything ready the over night, and by an hour by sun the next morning I had arrived upon the ground, ready for action. For the first half-hour or so I done nothing. Sometimes an old chanu’ler or a greedy cat would pay his respects to my bait in a way that would make my heart jump up into my mouth, and get me kind o’ excited like, but that was all. Devil the drum ever condescended to favour me with a nibble. A’ter a while I begun to get tired o’ that kind o’ sport, and concluded that I’d just up-stake and shove a little nearer in shore. Just as I was preparing to pull in my line, though, I spied a piece o’ pine bark, ’bout twenty yards off, floating down towards me. ‘Now,’ says I, ‘gents, I’ll give you until that bit of bark passes my line, to bite in, and if you don’t think proper to do it in that time, you may breakfast as you can—I’ll not play the waiting-boy any longer.’ Well, the piece of bark got right off against my line without my getting so much as a nibble, and I begun wind up; but I hadn’t got more’n a foot or so o’ the line outer the water, when I felt something give me a smart tug. At first I thought it might be a crab or an oyster-shell that I’d hooked, but presently my line begun to straighten under a strong, steady pull, and then I know’d what was about. I give one sangorous jerk, and the dance commenced.”

“What was it—a drum?” inquired old “Blair,” a little eagerly.

“Yes, a drum, and a regular scrouger, at that. I wish you had only been there, Lewis, to see the fun. Of all the hard fish to conquer, that ever I took in hand, that chap was the Major. I got him alongside at last, though, and lifted him in. I then run a rope through his gills, and sent him overboard agin, makin’ the two eends of the line fast to a staple in the stern o’ the boat, just behind me.

“Well, this put me in first-rate spirits, and out went my line agin in the twinklin’ of an eye. Before it had time to touch the bottom, it was jerked through my hand for the matter of a yard or so, and then cum another interestin’ little squabble. Just as I got that chap to the top o’ the water, ’way went t’other line!”

“My patience!” exclaimed old “Blair,” who had probably never taken a drum in the whole course of his life, “two goin’ at once?”

“Yes, two at once.”

“And did you save ’em both, Mr. Harris?”

“Save ’em!” said Billy; “did you ever know me to lose a fish arter I’d once struck him?”

“Well, exceptin’ that big rock this mornin’,” replied “Blair,” as a scarcely perceptible smile crept over his ebony visage, “I don’t remember as I ever did.”

“But that, you know, was the fault o’ the hook—the beard wasn’t quite long enough,” said Billy. “But to come back to the drums,” he continued, quickly. “In about three hours from the time I staked down, I had no less than thirty-nine fine fish floating at the eend o’ my little corner; so I concluded that I’d just up-stake, and make a push for the narrows.

“ ‘But how am I to get the drums along?’ said I to myself; ‘that’s the next question. If I take ’em in the boat, I shall be swamped to a certainty; and if I undertake to tow ’em straight up the river, it’s a school o’ pilchers to a single crocus that I’m run away with.’

“A’ter debating the matter for a little while with myself, I concluded that I’d just shove in quietly towards the land, until I got into schoal water, and then follow the shore. So I bent over as easy as I could, pulled up the stake, and commenced shoving along; but no sooner did the drums feel themselves moving through the water, than they turned tack, and, with a flirt of their tails, dashed smack off down the river, like so many terrified colts.”

“Thar, bless the Lord!” ejaculated old “Blair,” suddenly rising from his seat, and then resuming it again.

“My first thought,” continued Billy, “was to cut the rope, and let the whole batch of ’em go; but on turning round for that purpose, I found that the stern of the boat was buried so low in the water, that a little stream was beginning to run over the top; so I jist travelled to the other end of the boat, and tried to bear down. But the thing wasn’t to be done so easy. The drums had taken the bit between their teeth, and were pullin’ down with a regular forty-horse power. Seeing no other way of saving myself from the crabs, I just got a-straddle o’ the boat, and worked my way backwards, until I reached the last half inch o’ the bow, and there I sot, with my legs dangling in the water, ’till the gents begun to cool down, and come to the top. By this time we had got over Cobb Bar, and the drums were looking straight up the Potomac. I never knowed how to account for it, but just then a queer notion struck me:

“ ‘’Spose, now,’ said I, to myself, ‘I was to take these chaps in hand, and drive ’em to Alexandri’; wouldn’t it be something to talk about when I got back!’

“The thing sorter pleased me, and I determined to try it, come what might of it. So I reached down, and got holt o’ my drum-line, and carefully doubled it. I then got down into the boat, and crawled along on my hands and knees to the other eend o’ the corner, where the drums were, and looked over. Finding that they were all moving along quietly, I tied my line to the two eends o’ the rope that they were fastened with, and then cut the rope loose from the staple. This made the reins about twenty-five yards long, but I only let out about one-half ov ’em. I was afraid, you see, if I give the gents too much play room, that they might get into tantrums, and give me more trouble. Seeing, arter a while, though, that I could manage ’em pretty well, I just wound the line round my left hand, picked up my angel rope for a whip, took my seat in the stern of the boat, and told ’em to travel. And didn’t they travel! I wish you could only have seen me, Lewis. Old Neption, that Mr. ——, there, sometimes tells about, wasn’t a circumstance. I had a thundering big red drum in the lead, and nineteen as pretty matches o’ black ones following after, as ever a man could wish to look at; and they all moved along as nicely as so many well-broke carriage-horses. It’s true, a chap would sometimes become a little fractious, like, and sheer off towards the Ma’yland or Virginny shore, but I’d just fetch a draw on t’other tack, and give him a slight touch with the rod near the back fin, and he’d fall into line agin as beautiful as could be. Well, Lewis, to make a long story short, it was about ten o’clock in the day when I took the gentlemen in hand, and by three hours by the sun that evening, I pitched the reins over one o’ the posts on the Alexandri’ wharf. A crowd o’ people had collected together to see me land, and as the thing ov a man’s drivin’ fish to market seemed to tickle ’em, I soon sold out my whole team, at a dollar and a half a head. I at first thought of holding on to about half a dozen ov ’em to travel home with; but as I expected they were pretty well tired out, and the wind happened to be fair, I bought me a sail, laid in a supply ov eatables, and a jug of the best old rye that ever tickled a man’s throat” (a slight working of old “Blair’s” mouth was here perceptible), “and at day-break the next morning was snoozing it away nicely under my own shingles at home.”

“Didn’t you see no steam-boats, nor nothin’, on your way up, Mr. Harris?” inquired old “Blair.”

“Oh yes,” said Billy. “ ’Bout twenty miles this side o’ Alexandri’ I met the old Columbria, coming down under a full head o’ steam. She was crowded with people, and as I passed close along by the wheel-house, and bowed my head to ’em, they all clapped their hands and hollored mightily. I beam afterwards that the Captain, or somebody else, had it all put in the papers, but I can’t say from my own knowledge whether it was so or not. I also overtook two or three brigs, but didn’t stop to talk—just give ’em a nod, and passed on.”

“My patience!” exclaimed old “Blair;” “well you was a travellin’.”

“Just t’other side o’ Nangem’y Reach, too,” continued Billy, “I fell in with a sa’cy little pungy, that brushed up alongside, and seemed inclined to keep company. As the wind happened to freshen up just then, I couldn’t get away from her no how; and the son of a blood of a captin kept bearing me in towards the land until he got me almost right upon a long bar before I know’d it. As the water was several feet deep at the eend of the bar, the pungy could pass right by it without touching; so I had either to cross the bar or go round the pungy. It was a desperate undertaking to try the bar, for ’bout a yard or so wide it was perfectly bare; but I couldn’t think of being beat, so I just stood up in the boat, gathered the line well together in my hands, and with a whoop to the drums, rushed ’em at it.”

“And did you raily cross it, Mr. Harris?” said “Blair,” a little staggered.

“Without turning a shell,” replied Billy.

“And what became o’ the pungy?”

“Why in a little while the wind died away, and she dropped behind, and I saw nothing more of her. I reckon it mad the captin open his eyes, though, to see the way I crossed the bar. But the greatest expl’it ov all was—”

“What, you unconscionable liar—what?” exclaimed I, determined to put a stop to any further drafts upon old “Blair’s” credulity.

“Why, the one you was tellin’ me t’other day ’bout old Neption’s hitching his sea-horses to some big island or ’nother, and pulling it up by the roots, and towing it off with the people and all on it, and anchorin’ it down in some other place that he liked better,” was the unexpected rejoinder.

A reply was deemed unnecessary; and in a few minutes more the cheerful plash of the Bankhead spring was among the sounds we heard not.