the mouth and with his head thrown
back, so it would present only a few inches above the surface.

The boat turned, and seemed once upon the point of coming toward him. He
could hear the creaking of the oars and the men talking, but they turned
again suddenly and rowed up the stream. Again, his fate had hung on a
chance impulse. He drifted slowly on until the town and the bluffs sank
in the darkness. Then he drew himself upon his plank and swam, doubling
his speed. He knew that some of the Union gunboats lay not far below,
and, when he rounded a curve, he saw a light in the stream, but near the
shore.

He approached cautiously, knowing that the men on the vessel would be on
guard against secret attack, and presently he discerned the outlines
of a sidewheel steamer, converted into a warship and bearing guns. He
dropped down by the side of his plank until he was quite close, and
then, raising himself upon it again, he shouted with all his voice:
"Ship ahoy!"

He did not know whether that was the customary method of hailing on the
Mississippi, but it was a memory from his nautical reading, and so he
shouted a second and yet a third time at the top of his voice: "Ship
ahoy!" Figures bearing rifles appeared at the side, and a rough voice
demanded in language highly unparliamentary who was there and what he,
she or it wanted.

Dick was in a genial mood. He had escaped with an ease that surprised
him, and the warmth of the water in which he was immersed had saved him
from cramp or chill. The spirit of recklessness seized him again. He
threw himself astride his plank, and called out:

"A detachment of the army of the United States escaped from captivity in
Vicksburg, and wishing to rejoin it. It's infantry, not marines, and it
needs land."

"Then advance infantry and give the countersign."

"Grant and Victory," replied Dick in a loud, clear voice.

A laugh came from the steamer, and the rough voice said again:

"Let the detachment advance again, and holding up its hands, show
itself."

Dick paddled closer and, steadying himself as well as he could, threw
up his hands. The light of a ship's lantern was thrown directly on his
face, and the same voice ordered men to take a small boat and get him.

When Dick stepped upon the deck of the steamer, water streaming from
his clothes, several men looked at him curiously. One in a dingy blue
uniform he believed to be the owner of the rough voice. But his face was
not rough.