A square-nosed old river steamer was pushing in before her a barge loaded with the pitiful, shabby furnishings of many a humble plantation tenant home. Over bundles of bedding, the dogs and children crawled; amid piles of rickety furniture, tin tubs and hastily gathered utensils and tools, the family mules and cows were tethered. On the decks of the steamer, itself, huddled half a hundred cold, wet, hungry refugees. The boat was a weather-beaten old side-wheeler, clumsy and creaking. But to those refugees, just snatched from the jaws of death, she probably seemed the finest ship afloat.