THE BUILDING OF THE BOAT
"All right, Jo," said Jim, "I'll give you a contract that you can work
on until sunset."
He looked over our bunch of logs carefully and picked out the three
largest and finest.
"You can begin on these," he said. "Take the adzes and the axes and go
to work and hollow them out."
"What for?" I asked.
"You will see later," he replied. "Try to think it out for yourselves."
Then he took himself off and we went busily to work. We certainly had
our task cut out for us.
"What do you suppose Jim is after?" I asked. "Perhaps he is going to
have us hollow out a canoe apiece and go sailing down the Colorado to
see who will reach the end or get drowned first."
"Maybe he thinks that it will make the logs more buoyant and they will
float higher if they are hollow," suggested Tom.
"It will take us a month or more to finish all these logs," I grumbled.
"What shape do you suppose the raft will be?" Tom inquired.
"Something like this," I said, taking my index finger and drawing a
square in the sand. Tom shook his head.
"That would be too clumsy," he said, "and it would be striking on every
rock and would be terribly hard to steer."
"What's your idea?" I asked.
"Instead of having it square, I would have it this shape," he answered.
And he drew an oblong figure in the sand while I looked on.
"Yes," I said, "and if it ever swung sideways to the current it would
dam the river besides spilling us out."
"I would have a long steering oar on the stern and that would keep her
head to the current," he replied.
"Yes, you would have a jolly time where there was cross currents. It
would take about ten horse power to steer it."
"It's a lot better than yours," he said.
No doubt that was correct enough, but I did not take any pride in my
ability as a ship constructor. Jim was yet to be heard from. And
doubtless he would have improvements on both our designs. There was no
question but there was room for them.
We went to work again at our task of hollowing the logs. We went at it
fiercely because we wanted to accomplish something before dark. It was
almost sunset now. Then we heard Jim's voice.
"Gee! Haw! Buck! Get up, Piute! Coyote!"
"By Jove, he's snaking down a big timber with our old plugs. Where do
you suppose he got it?" exclaimed Tom.
"Swiped it from our next neighbors," I suggested. "It must have been
part of the foundation, from the size of it."
"Hey, Jim, where did you corner that?" Tom yelled.
Jim did not deign to reply until he had brought the big timber alongside
of the other logs.
"I captured that over there on the other side of the valley," he
informed us proudly but indefinitely.
"Where did it come from?" I inquired.
"From some of the Union Pacific bridges, about six hundred miles above
here," he replied. "Some flood brought it down."
"It's a fine stringer," I commented.
"There's any quantity of good stuff in the drift over there," Jim said,
"boards and about everything else we need to make our old raft
shipshape. It's time to knock off work, boys, now; you have made a good
start on those logs."
"I'm going to wash off," I declared.
The rest followed my example. It was a close, hot evening and it felt
mighty refreshing to get into the river, for we had put in a hard day's
work and were dirty and sweaty, though we were not especially tired.
"Why don't you swim over to that rock, Jim?" I asked.
"Not for me," he said, shaking his head. "I know when I have had
enough."
We did not stay in the water long and in a short time we were seated in
camp, and with ravenous appetites were attacking our supper, our heads
still wet and our faces shining red from the water and the sun.
We were just tired enough to enjoy sitting on the old bent cottonwood,
swinging our feet. You know how you feel if you have been tramping all
day or working in the fields, and after a good clean up, sit down to a
square meal.
We were in high spirits as we had made a good start or rather laid a
basis for our work. We certainly felt sturdy and adequate enough for
anything. There is a peculiar feeling of strength that comes to one
after a day of muscular exercise and we had had that all right.
"What are you going to do with that big stick, Jim?" I asked.
"That goes for the keel," he answered.
"You are not going to build a boat, are you?" I inquired.
"No," replied Jim, "but even with a raft you will have to have something
to keep her in the current."
We got into our blankets quite early and slept like logs, with never a
thought of mosquitoes or anything else. A mountain lion might have crept
down and yanked one of us off and the other two would not have been the
wiser.
Jim got us out the next morning before the sun was up and we were down
at the beach working like beavers. I tell you it was a busy scene.
Tom and I, with axes and adzes, hollowing out the two logs. Jim went to
work on his stringer, shaping it up and also digging it out after he had
made some measurements of the log I was working on.
When night came, after we had put in twelve hours' steady toil I felt
discouraged. It did not seem that we had accomplished much, but Jim was
cheerful.
The following morning, however, after a refreshing night's sleep, it
looked much more hopeful as I stood on the beach looking over what had
been accomplished on the two previous days.
Jim's plans began to shape themselves and we saw what our new craft was
to be like. His design was far superior to what we had planned. The
groundwork was three of the longest and largest logs.
The bow was three feet across, the end of the logs being trimmed and
shaped together. The stern was made by the spread of the logs and was at
least six feet across. This end was also shaped up so as to offer as
little surface to the current as possible.
The logs were held together by heavy planking that we had recovered from
the drift. These were spiked to the logs. Before this was done Jim had
fixed his heavy keel to the middle log.
He had hollowed it to the shape of the log so that it fitted to it and
made it as much like a boat keel as possible. It was pretty well water
soaked and half as heavy as iron.
"How are you ever going to launch this craft?" I inquired. "She will be
sure to weigh a ton."
"We will come to that in a couple of days," replied Jim.
The crucial time came and we went to work to get the raft into the
stream. We were aided by the fact that it had been purposely put
together near a steep slope into the river.
By means of the leverage of long poles and blocks we raised it up, and
with smaller logs placed underneath we rolled it down into the stream.
"Hurrah!" yelled Jim. "She floats like a duck."
It was a jubilant moment for us. We had worked hard and carefully, and
it was worth while.
It was a quiet stretch of water in the bend, but we took extra
precautions and had strong ropes at each end fastened to heavy rocks on
the shore. Jim had also selected a very heavy well-shaped stone, and we
used this for an anchor at the stern.
"It's taken us a full week to get her launched," said Jim, "but before
we are through with this river we will be mighty glad that the old tub
is so strong and shipshape."
We now executed a dance on her main deck, which was more remarkable for
action than for grace.
"She's steady as an old rock," I said. "What shall we call her?"
"The Juanita," suggested Tom, who was always something of a gallant.
"Call her 'The Colorado,'" I suggested.
"Hold on," cried Jim, "I know a better one than that. We ought to
remember our old friend. Call her 'The Captain.'"
"The Captain," we cried in chorus, raising our hands in military salute.
So our boat was named and well named.
"We ought to finish the superstructure in three days," said Jim. "You
would have thought it was an ocean liner to hear Jim talk.
"And the oars," I said.
"Yes and the cabin," put in Jim. "Of course," he said, smiting his
chest, "the commodore must have a cabin and we want a place where we can
store things and keep them dry."
"She will look like quite a boat," said Tom. "I suppose you will want to
rig up a sail, too?"
"Never mind about the sail now, Tom," said our new commodore with
dignity. "You landlubbers can go ashore, I'm going to sleep abroad."
Tom and I decided that we preferred to be on _terra firma_ as we were
more used to it, so we slept in camp, leaving Jim on his beloved yacht.