The devil was there that fateful night
One could feel his presence on the boat
You could see him in the swirling fog
His cloven hoofs like that of a goat

It was a bad night for a paddleboat
But wouldn't make the captain turn back
He was alone on the Mississippi
Great courage a thing he didn’t lack

This captain was a very brave man
He knew this old river very well
Could guide his boat even through thick fog
But his trip this night would end in Hell

And the paddle wheeler rocked oddly
As it headed for an unknown shore
He saw it but he couldn’t believe
That shore had never been there before

He remembered how he had boasted
Earlier in the tavern that night
Said he could beat the devil himself
Now he was in one hell of a fight

The devil must have been listening
And he had heard the captain’s bragging
For the Mississippi had shifted
Never to be the same again

The paddleboat gave a great jerk
The captain heard the engines stall
The boat shuddered then overturned
The devil made his fearsome call

When the fog lifted in the morning
They found that his paddleboat sank deep
A huge gaping hole within its side
But the captain…the river would keep

Now the locals say on foggy nights
One can still hear the ring of the bell
Sound of the motor, curses of ghosts
The captain completing his run in Hell

THE HISTORY BEHIND THIS MYSTERY - The above tale was written after researching Louisiana folklore and coming up with a story about this riverboat as it was retold by S. E. Schlosser. I could find no other history of the tale. So, little is known about this story or whether it is one of fact or fiction.