ZIFE OUT THE MISSISSIPPI

CHAPTER XV.
THE PILOTS* MONOPOLY.
ONE day, on board the * Aleck Scott/ my chief, Mr. Bixby, was crawl-
ing carefully through a close place at Cat Island, both leads going, and
everybody holding his breath. The captain, a nervous, apprehensive
man, kept still as long as he could, but finally broke down and shouted
from the hurricane deck—
* 3Tor gracious' sake, give her steam, Mr. Bixby! give her steam!
She'll never raise the reef on this headway !'
For all the effect that was produced upon Mr. Bixby, one would
have supposed that no remark had been made. But five minutes
later, when the danger was past and the leads laid in, he burst
instantly into a consuming fury, and gave the captain the most admi-
rable cursing I ever listened to. No bloodshed ensued; but that was
because the captain's cause was weak; for ordinarily he was not a
man to take correction quietly.
Having now set forth in detail the nature of the science of pilot-
ing, and likewise described the rank which the pilot held among the
fraternity of steamboatmen, this seems a fitting place to say a few
words about an organisation which the pilots once formed for the
protection of their guild. It was curious and noteworthy in this, that
it was perhaps the compactest, the completest, and the strongest
commercial organisation ever formed among men.
For a long time wages had been two hundred and fifty dollars a
month; but curiously enough, as steamboats multiplied and business
increased, the wages began to fall little by little. It was easy to dis-
cover the reason of this. Too many pilots were being * made.' It
was nice to have a * cub,' a steersman, to do all the hard work for a