It was some time before the canoes were ready, and in the mean time
the young canoeists met with a new difficulty. The canoe-builders
wrote to them wishing to know how they would have the canoes
rigged. It had never occurred to the boys that there was more than
one rig used on canoes, and of course they did not know how to
answer the builders’ question. So they went to the Commodore and
told him their difficulty.
“I might do,” said he, “just as I did when I told you to go and ask
four different canoeists which is the best canoe; but I won’t put
you to that trouble. I rather like the Lord Ross lateen rig better
than any other, but, as you are going to try different kinds of
canoes, it would be a good idea for you to try different rigs.
For example, have your ‘Rob Roy’ rigged with lateen-sails; rig the
‘Shadow’ with a balance-lug, the ‘Rice Laker’ with a ‘sharpie’
leg-of-mutton, and the canvas canoe with the standing lug. Each one
of these rigs has its advocates, who will prove to you that it is
better than any other, and you can’t do better than try them all.
Only be sure to tell the builders that every canoe must have two
masts, and neither of the two sails must be too big to be safely
handled.”
“How does it happen that every canoeist is so perfectly certain that
he has the best canoe and the best rig in existence?” asked Tom.
“That is one of the great merits of canoeing,” replied the
Commodore. “It makes every man contented, and develops in him
decision of character. I’ve known a canoeist to have a canoe so
leaky that he spent half his time bailing her out, and rigged
in such a way that she would neither sail nor do anything in a
breeze except capsize; and yet he was never tired of boasting of
the immense superiority of his canoe. There’s a great deal of
suffering in canoeing,” continued the Commodore, musingly, “but its
effects on the moral character are priceless. My dear boys, you
have no idea how happy and contented you will be when you are wet
through, cramped and blistered, and have to go into camp in a heavy
rain, and without any supper except dry crackers.”
While the boys were waiting for their canoes they read all the
books on canoeing that they could find, and searched through a
dozen volumes of the London _Field_, which they found in Uncle
John’s library, for articles and letters on canoeing. They thus
learned a good deal, and when their canoes arrived they were
able to discuss their respective merits with a good degree of
intelligence.
The “Rob Roy” and the “Shadow” were built with white cedar planks
and Spanish cedar decks. They shone with varnish, and their
nickel-plated metal-work was as bright as silver. They were
decidedly the prettiest of the four canoes, and it would have
been very difficult to decide which was the prettier of the two.
The “Rice Laker” was built without timbers or a keel, and was
formed of two thicknesses of planking riveted together, the grain
of the inner planking crossing that of the outer planking at right
angles. She looked strong and serviceable, and before Tom had
been in possession of her half an hour he was insisting that she
was much the handiest canoe of the squadron, simply because she
had no deck. The outside planks were of butternut; but they were
pierced with so many rivets that they did not present so elegant
an appearance as did the planks of the “Shadow” and the “Rob Roy.”
The canvas canoe consisted of a wooden skeleton-frame, covered and
decked with painted canvas. She was very much the same in model as
the “Shadow;” and though she seemed ugly in comparison with her
varnished sisters, Charley claimed that he would get more comfort
out of his canoe than the other boys would out of theirs, for the
reason that scratches that would spoil the beauty of the varnished
wood could not seriously injure the painted canvas. Thus each boy
was quite contented, and asserted that he would not change canoes
with anybody. They were equally well contented with the way in
which their canoes were rigged, and they no longer wondered at the
confident way in which the canoeists to whom the Commodore had
introduced them spoke of the merits of their respective boats.
Of course the subject of names for the canoes had been settled
long before the canoes arrived. Joe had named his “Rob Roy” the
_Dawn_; Harry’s canoe was the _Sunshine_; Tom’s the _Twilight_; and
Charley’s the _Midnight_. The last name did not seem particularly
appropriate to a canoe, but it was in keeping with the other names,
and, as the canoe was painted black, it might have been supposed to
have some reference to her color.
The boys had intended to join the American Canoe Association, but
Uncle John suggested that they would do well to make a cruise,
and to become real canoeists, before asking for admission to the
association. They then decided to form a canoe club of their own,
which they did; and Harry was elected the first Commodore of the
Columbian Canoe Club, the flag of which was a pointed burgee of
blue silk, with a white paddle worked upon it. Each canoe carried
its private signal in addition to the club flag, and bore its name
in gilt letters on a blue ground on each bow.
Where to cruise was a question which was decided and reconsidered
half a dozen times. From the books which they had read the boys
had learned that there is, if anything, more fun in cruising on a
narrow stream than in sailing on broad rivers; that running rapids
is a delightful sport, and that streams should always be descended
instead of ascended in a canoe. They, therefore, wanted to discover
a narrow stream with safe and easy rapids, and also to cruise on
some lake or wide river where they could test the canoes under
sail and under paddle in rough water. They learned more of the
geography of the Eastern States and of Canada, in searching the map
for a good cruising route, than they had ever learned at school;
and they finally selected a route which seemed to combine all
varieties of canoeing.
The cruise was to begin at the southern end of Lake Memphremagog,
in Vermont. On this lake, which is thirty miles long, the young
canoeists expected to spend several days, and to learn to handle
the canoes under sail. From the northern end of the lake, which is
in Canada, they intended to descend its outlet, the Magog River,
which is a narrow stream, emptying into the St. Francis River at
Sherbrooke. From Sherbrooke the St. Francis was to be descended to
the St. Lawrence, down which the canoes were to sail to Quebec.
They wrote to the postmaster at Sherbrooke asking him if the Magog
and the St. Francis were navigable by canoes, and when he replied
that there were only one or two rapids in the Magog, which they
could easily run, they were more than ever satisfied with their
route.
The previous cruises that the boys had made had taught them what
stores and provisions were absolutely necessary and what could be
spared. Each canoe was provided with a water-proof bag to hold a
blanket and dry clothes, and with a pair of small cushions stuffed
with elastic felt, a material lighter than cork, and incapable of
retaining moisture. These cushions were to be used as mattresses at
night, and the rubber blankets were to be placed over the canoes
and used as shelter tents. Although the mattresses would have made
excellent life-preservers, Uncle John presented each canoeist with
a rubber life-belt, which could be buckled around the waist in a
few seconds in case of danger of a capsize. Harry provided his
canoe with a canvas canoe-tent, made from drawings published in the
London _Field_, but the others decided not to go to the expense
of making similar tents until Harry’s should have been thoroughly
tested.
When all was ready the blankets and stores were packed in the
_Sunshine_, the cockpit of which was provided with hatches, which
could be locked up, thus making the canoe serve the purpose of
a trunk. The four canoes were then sent by rail to Newport, at
the southern end of Lake Memphremagog, and a week later the boys
followed them, carrying their paddles by hand, for the reason that,
if they had been sent with the canoes and had been lost or stolen,
it would have been impossible to start on the cruise until new
paddles had been procured.
Newport was reached, after an all-night journey, at about two
o’clock in the morning. The canoeists went straight to the
freight-house to inspect the canoes. They were all there, resting
on the heads of a long row of barrels, and were apparently all
right. The varnish of the _Dawn_ and the _Sunshine_ was scratched
in a few places, and the canvas canoe had a very small hole punched
through her deck, as if she had been too intimate with a nail in
the course of her journey. The boys were, however, well satisfied
with the appearance of the boats, and so walked up to the hotel to
get dinner and a supply of sandwiches, bread, and eggs for their
supper.
Dinner was all ready, for, under the name of breakfast, it was
waiting for the passengers of the train, which made a stop of half
an hour at Newport. A band was playing on the deck of a steamer
which was just about to start down the lake, and the boys displayed
appetites, as they sat near the open window looking out on the
beautiful landscape, which rather astonished the waiter.
A good, quiet place for launching the canoes was found, which was
both shady and out of sight of the hotel. It was easy enough to
carry the three empty canoes down to the shore; but the _Sunshine_,
with her heavy cargo, proved too great a load, and about half-way
between the freight-house and the shore she had to be laid on the
ground and partly emptied. Here Joe, who tried to carry the spars
and paddles of four canoes on his shoulder, found that there is
nothing more exasperating than a load of sticks of different sizes.
No matter how firmly he tried to hold them together, they would
spread apart at every imaginable angle. Before he had gone three
rods he looked like some new kind of porcupine with gigantic quills
sticking out all over him. Then he began to drop things, and,
stooping to pick them up, managed to trip himself and fall with a
tremendous clatter. He picked himself up and made sixteen journeys
between the spot where he fell and the shore of the lake, carrying
only one spar at a time, and grasping that with both hands. His
companions sat down on the grass and laughed to see the deliberate
way in which he made his successive journeys, but Joe, with a
perfectly serious face, said that he was going to get the better of
those spars, no matter how much trouble it might cost him, and that
he was not going to allow them to get together and play tricks on
him again.
[Illustration: “SHE’S HALF FULL OF WATER.”]
It was tiresome stooping over, packing the canoes, but finally they
were all in order, and the Commodore gave the order to launch them.
The lake was perfectly calm, and the little fleet started under
paddle for a long, sandy point that jutted out into the lake some
three miles from Newport. The _Sunshine_ and the _Dawn_ paddled
side by side, and the two other canoes followed close behind them.
“Boys, isn’t this perfectly elegant?” exclaimed Harry, laying down
his paddle when the fleet was about a mile from the shore and
bathing his hot head with water from the lake. “Did you ever see
anything so lovely as this blue water?”
“Yes,” said Charley; “the water’s all right outside of the canoes,
but I’d rather have a little less inside of mine.”
“What do you mean,” asked Harry. “Is she leaking?”
“She’s half full of water, that’s all,” replied Charley, beginning
to bail vigorously with his hat.
“Halloo!” cried Joe, suddenly. “Here’s the water up to the top of
my cushions.”
“We’d better paddle on and get ashore as soon as possible,” said
Harry. “My boat is leaking a little too.”
Charley bailed steadily for ten minutes, and somewhat reduced
the amount of water in his canoe. The moment he began paddling,
however, the leak increased. He paddled with his utmost strength,
knowing that if he did not soon reach land he would be swamped;
but the water-logged canoe was very heavy, and he could not drive
her rapidly through the water. His companions kept near him, and
advised him to drop his paddle and to bail, but he knew that the
water was coming in faster than he could bail it out, and so he
wasted no time in the effort. It soon became evident that his canoe
would never keep afloat to reach the sand-spit for which he had
been steering, so he turned aside and paddled for a little clump
of rushes, where he knew the water must be shallow. Suddenly he
stopped paddling, and almost at the same moment his canoe sunk
under him, and he sprung up to swim clear of her.