"Den she say, snappylike, 'How I gwine get 'coon, yo' fool nigger! No,
sah, I ain't got no 'coon 'ceptin' my ole man wha' I marry yistiddy he
name _Coon_.'"

The shout of laughter that greeted this story was interrupted by the
appearance of Billy Brackett at the door.

"Come out here, boys!" he cried. "There's a steamboat on fire and
coming down the river!"

This startling announcement emptied the "shanty" in a hurry. Even
Binney Gibbs forgot his aches and joined his mates outside.

There was no doubt as to the meaning of the column of flame that turned
the darkness into day behind them. It was so near that they could hear
its ominous roar, while the black forest walls on either side of the
river were bathed in a crimson glow from its baleful light. A vast
cloud of smoke, through which shot millions of sparks, trailed and
eddied above it, while, with the hoarse voice of escaping steam, the
blazing craft sounded its own death-note.

As the monster came tearing down the channel of crimson and gold that
opened and ever widened before it, our raftmates were fascinated by the
sight of its sublime but awful approach. They stood motionless and
speechless until roused to a sudden activity by Billy Brackett's shout
of "Man the sweeps, fellows! She is unmanageable, and headed for us as
straight as an arrow. If we can't get out of the way she'll be on top
of us inside of two minutes more!"

Like young tigers the boys tugged at the heavy sweeps; but they might
as well have tried to extinguish the floating volcano that threatened
them with destruction as to remove that mass of timber beyond reach of
danger within the time allowed them. The task was an impossible one;
and as they realized this fact, the crew of the _Venture_ prepared to
launch their skiff, abandon the raft, and row for their lives.

[Illustration: "Like young tigers the boys tugged at the heavy sweeps."]

CHAPTER XXXV.

BIM'S HEROISM.

As the burning steamboat swept down towards the low-lying raft the
destruction of the latter appeared so certain that its crew abandoned
all hope of saving it; and, taking to their skiff, sought by its means
to escape the threatened danger. It was a forlorn hope, and promised
but little. Even with Billy Brackett's strong arms tugging at its
oars, the heavily laden skiff seemed to move so slowly, that but for
the ever-widening space between them and the raft they would have
deemed it at a stand-still. Th