So they've mutinied and
everything's at a standstill."
"Hey, you!" he cried, beckoning to a Whitehall which hovered discreetly
on the outer rim of the floating confusion.
A tiny launch, pulling heroically at a huge tow-barge, attempted to
pass between; but the boatman shot nervily across her bow, and just as
he was clear, unfortunately, caught a crab. This slewed the boat
around and brought it to a stop.
"Watch out!" the first officer shouted.
A pair of seventy-foot canoes, loaded with outfits, gold-rushers, and
Indians, and under full sail, drove down from the counter direction.
One of them veered sharply towards the landing stage, but the other
pinched the Whitehall against the barge. The boatman had unshipped his
oars in time, but his small craft groaned under the pressure and
threatened to collapse. Whereat he came to his feet, and in short,
nervous phrases consigned all canoe-men and launch-captains to eternal
perdition. A man on the barge leaned over from above and baptized him
with crisp and crackling oaths, while the whites and Indians in the
canoe laughed derisively.
"Aw, g'wan!" one of them shouted. "Why don't yeh learn to row?"
The boatman's fist landed on the point of his critic's jaw and dropped
him stunned upon the heaped merchandise. Not content with this summary
act he proceeded to follow his fist into the other craft.
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