There the
exhorter, stepping from the stage to the ground, had poured his voice
into the woods and now turned to the boat and let loose his tongue:
"I'm the hewolf an' wilecat o' th' 'Azoo Delta! I'm the alligatoh an'
snappin' turkle o' the Arkansass! I'm the horn-ed an' yalleh-belly
catfish o' the Mississip'! Glory, hallelu'! the sunburnt,
chill-an'-feveh, rip-saw, camp-meetin', buckshot, kickin'-mule
civilization whah-in I got my religion is good enough fo' me, all
high-steppin', niggeh-stealin' play-actohs an' flounced and friskin',
beau-ketchered Natchez brick-tops to the contrary notwithstayndin'! For
I'm a meek an' humble follower o' the Lawd Gawd A'mighty, which may the
same eternally an' _ee_-sentially damn yo' cowa'dly soul, you
stump-tail' little Hugh Co'teney up yandeh with yo' Gawd-fo'sakened,
punkin face an' yo' sawed-off statu'e!"
The gamblers sprang to hush him but the two "Arkansas killers" stepped
between and while the _Votaress_, backing out into the wake of the
_Westwood_, left the one pair insisting and the other protesting, the
exhorter settled the issue by breaking into song:
"'Though num'r-ous hosts uv migh-tye foes,
Though airth an' hell, my way op-pose,
He safe-lye leadns my soudl aa-logn:
His lov-ign-kide-ness, oh, how strogn!
His lov-ign-kide-ness! lov-ign-kide-ness!
His lov-ign-ki-i-i-ide-ness, oh, how strogn!'"
LII
LOVE RUNS ROUGH BUT RUNS ON
Turning east in the upper arm of Saint Francis Bend, with the mouth of
Saint Francis River just swinging out of sight astern and Helena an
hour's run behind, the _Votaress_ faced the rising sun.
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