CHAPTER XIV

UP THE RIVER

They were off at nine o’clock the next morning, Jeffrey and Poke in

one canoe and Jim and Gil and Hope in another. The basket of luncheon

reposed between Jeffrey and Poke, the latter declaring that it was

needed as ballast. Their canoe was not a very good one and was the

smaller of the two, and Poke had only secured it, from two juniors who

were in possession of it when he arrived at the boat-house, by his

moving eloquence. It was a fine autumn morning, warm and sunny, and it

seemed that the whole school had elected to spend the forenoon on the

river. For the first quarter of a mile the stream was alive with canoes

and skiffs. Then the throng dwindled and soon the voyagers had the

river to themselves.

Poke was making hard work of paddling, although all that Jeffrey

required of him was “push,” as he put it. “Just stick your blade in,

Poke, and push it back. I’ll look after the steering.”

“That’s all very well,” answered Poke, “but I keep skinning my knuckles

on the side of the canoe.”

“Then put your left hand higher up on the paddle,” Jeffrey laughed.

“And when you get tired, change over to the other side.”

“I’m not comfortable,” Poke grumbled presently. “This thing you call a

seat is as hard as a rock. Why don’t they have cushions in canoes?”

“Some do,” Jeffrey replied. “When I get mine I’ll have a cushion

especially for you, Poke, with your initials on it.”

“Just as long as you don’t ask me to sit on it, all right. I say, Gil,

how are you getting on?”

“Pretty well, thank you. How are you?”

“Oh, fine! I guess I’m doing most of the work from the feeling of my

arms. Say, wouldn’t it be great if the silly old river would run the

other way for awhile?”

“I wish there was another paddle,” said Hope disconsolately. “I could

help if there were.”

“You’d upset the canoe if you tried to paddle from the middle,” said

Jim. “How much further is it, Gil?”

“About a mile, I guess. Getting tired?”

“N-no; a little. It surely gets your muscles, doesn’t it?”

“It surely does!” agreed Gil. “It’s getting muscles I didn’t know I

had!”

“Keep farther away,” warned Poke. “I need lots of room when I paddle,

and you make me nervous when you come so close. Get out or I’ll splash

you, Gil!”

“Don’t you try it, son! And for goodness’ sake don’t wriggle around so

in your seat. If you upset we’ll lose the luncheon. I knew we oughtn’t

to have let you take it.”

“Isn’t it most time for luncheon now?” asked Poke. “We might just rest

a while and have a sandwich, eh?”

“Get out! It isn’t ten o’clock yet,” Gil jeered.

“Isn’t it?” asked his chum pathetically. “My arms feel as though it was

twelve!”

“Rest awhile,” said Jeffrey from the stern. “I can work it alone here.

The current isn’t so hard now.”

“No, I’ll keep at it until I fall in a swoon,” answered Poke. “One

arm’s numb clear to the elbow now and doesn’t hurt so much. I dare say

I’ll soon be beyond all pain.”

“Let’s paddle in to the bank,” Jim suggested, “and take a rest. I’m

just about all in, fellows.”

So they turned the canoes to where the branches of the trees overhung

a little stretch of pebbly beach and ran the bows of the craft ashore.

Poke laid his dripping paddle across his knees, murmured “Good night!”

and apparently sank into slumber. They were all, excepting Jeffrey and

Hope, glad of the respite, for paddling against the current, even for

those accustomed to it, is no light task. Hope wanted to get out and

“explore,” but her brother hard-heartedly commanded her to sit still

and not overturn the canoe.

“Isn’t the river perfectly beautiful!” she exclaimed.

There was a deep sigh from Poke. “It is indeed paradise,” he murmured.

Presently he raised his head and looked about him, passing a hand

across his damp forehead. “Where am I?” he asked dazedly. “Ah, I

remember all! I thought ’twas but a dream!”

“Well, suppose we dream some more,” laughed Jeffrey. “After we get to

Riverbend we can rest as long as we want to. You fellows ready?”

“Yes, come on,” answered Jim. “Push her off, Gil.”

“Aren’t we going to have our luncheon now?” asked Poke in injured

surprise. “Only the thought of food has kept me alive thus far. Let’s

every one have a sandwich, fellows, just one miserable little sandwich.”

“Oh, come on, Poke,” said Gil. “Get a move on. Jeff wants to buy his

canoe some time to-day.”

“Well, just a half a sandwich,” pleaded Poke. “Honest to goodness,

fellows, I’m faint with hunger and fatigue.”

“Shall I give him one?” asked Jeffrey laughingly.

“Not a bite!” replied Gil. “He wouldn’t do another stroke of work if

you fed him now. All he wants to do after he has eaten is lie down and

go to sleep.”

“Gee, I want to do that now!” ejaculated Poke, raising his paddle

wearily and pushing the bow of the canoe from the sand. “When I fall in

a dead faint in the bottom of the canoe you fellows will be sorry you

treated me so meanly. Jeff, will you push the basket this way a little

farther, please? I just want a smell of it to encourage me!”

A half-mile farther up the stream they began to encounter other

crafts. Riverbend was a veritable canoeing center and on fair days,

and especially on Saturdays and holidays, hundreds of persons were

to be found on the river thereabouts. As early as it was, the stream

was pretty well populated as they drew near their destination. There

were red canoes and blue canoes and white canoes and green canoes, and

canoes of half a dozen other colors or tints. Many of them were really

luxurious, with mahogany seats and embroidered cushions, while one

craft that they passed, occupied by a man and a woman, was floating

lazily down the stream with a graphophone playing in the bow. That was

too much for Poke. He stopped paddling and stared at it most impolitely

with open mouth. Finally he shook his head.

“It’s no use,” he said discouragedly. “I can’t do any more. My mind is

wandering. I’m seeing things and hearing music!”

“Well, we’re just about there, I guess,” laughed Jeffrey. “There’s a

boat-house ahead of us now, although I don’t know that it’s the one we

want.”

“I will essay a few more faltering strokes then,” replied Poke. “Shall

you have one of those music affairs in your canoe, Jeff, or are you

going to have a church organ?”

“A music box, I guess. There’s our place, Poke; see the sign?”

Poke shook his head. “I see nothing clearly,” he muttered. “All is a

blur before me.”

“There’s Sandford’s,” called Gil from the other canoe which had drawn

ahead. “Shall we go over there now?”

“Yes, let’s look at his canoes first. Then we’ll have something to eat,

eh?”

“Eat!” shouted Poke. “Who said eat? Do my ears deceive me?”

“Back water!” commanded Jeffrey. “That was a narrow squeak, Poke.” A

pea-green canoe crossed their bow, while the single occupant of it

asked them scathingly if they were blind. It required some care to

cross the river, which here widened into a very respectable basin,

without scraping somebody’s paint, but it was at last accomplished and

the two canoes sidled up to a long sloping float which presented a

very busy scene. Canoes were being brought from their racks in the big

shed and placed in the water, and dozens of persons were embarking or

awaiting their turns. Paddles and cushions and lunch-boxes littered the

float. Through the open doors of the boat-house canoe after canoe could

be seen housed on racks in the dim interior.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Jim. “I didn’t know there were so many canoes

in the world!”

They pulled their own craft onto the float and looked about them.

Across the basin was another boat-house bearing the name of a rival

maker. Near at hand a high bridge spanned the river. Beyond it the

stream turned to the left and still more boat-houses showed through the

leafless trees that lined the banks.

“It’s just too――too jimmy for words!” cried Hope. “It must be perfectly

stunning up here in summer, mustn’t it? Jim, will you bring me up here

sometime and paddle me around?”

“We’ll all come up and make a day of it next spring,” said Gil. “It’s

really very jolly in warm weather, when the leaves are out, you know,

and the birds are singing――”

“Listen to him!” hooted Poke. “Listen to old Gil rhapsodizing! ‘Trees

and birds’! Say, Gil, what you need is a bite to eat.”

“Let’s get busy, then,” said Jeffrey. “I wonder where the office is.”

“At the other end,” said Poke. “I’ll show you. Only――” He stopped and

viewed the luncheon basket thoughtfully. “Only,” he went on, “I don’t

want to take any chances about losing that grub. Shall we take it with

us?”

“Oh, come ahead; no one’s going to steal it,” said Gil. “Besides, if

they do we can buy luncheon here. There are two or three places up

there towards the station.”

“That’s so,” responded Poke in relieved tones. “Come on, then.”

Buying a canoe was not as easy as it had seemed. Not that there was any

scarcity of the articles, however. That was just where the difficulty

lay. There were so many of them, new and second hand, of all colors

and sizes, that it took a lot of deciding. Poke had been very nearly

right as to prices. In the end, after fully a half hour of viewing

and discussing, Jeffrey made his decision. The canoe he selected was

sixteen feet long, with a white cedar body and red cedar trim. It was

painted crimson and the varnish shone until the boys could almost see

their faces in it. It had been difficult at the last to choose between

crimson and blue in the matter of color, for the blue was a most

enticing shade. But Gil reminded Jeffrey that crimson and gray were

the school colors and patriotism cast the deciding vote. Then came the

extras; paddles, seat-backs and cushions. Jeffrey tried a half-dozen

paddles at the edge of the float before he decided on the model he

liked best and ordered two. One seat-back was all he wanted, and that

was only in case Hope should honor the canoe with her presence. Three

cork cushions completed his purchases and almost exhausted the fifty

dollars that he had brought with him. (The canoe was thirty-seven

dollars and a half.) Then came the subject of having a name printed on

the bow, and Jeffrey was nonplussed.

“I think that would be nice, don’t you?” he asked the others. They

agreed that it would and immediately suggested names. But none of them

seemed to please Jeffrey and finally he told the man that they would

think it over and let him know about it in an hour or so.

“I suppose, though,” he said with a trace of disappointment in his

voice, “I’d have to wait for it if you painted the name on.”

The man replied that it would require several days to perform the work

and dry the paint.

“That means that I’ll have to come up again and get it, then.”

“Oh, no, sir. We’ll deliver it for you at the school. Just take it down

with our launch.”

“Well, then I guess I’ll have a name on it,” replied Jeffrey. “And I’ll

let you know in about an hour.”

So they left matters that way and went back to their canoes for

the luncheon basket. With this in hand they started out to find a

suitable place to eat and at last succeeded, discovering a sunny nook

a little way down the river where a row of willows shut them off from

the observation of the people in the passing canoes. Mrs. Hazard had

provided liberally. There were sandwiches galore, tongue, ham and

lettuce; a thermos bottle filled with coffee that was as hot when Hope

poured it into the drinking cups as when it had been put into the

bottle; another thermos filled with milk; a dozen hard-boiled eggs;

much cake and some bananas. Poke heaved a sigh of contentment as Hope

and Jim spread the contents of the basket out on two napkins.

“Great!” he said. “There’s as much as I can eat there. I wonder,

though, what the rest of you are going to do.”

“We’ll show you in a minute,” said Gil. “All gather around, ladies and

gentlemen. Who wants milk and who wants coffee?”

“I,” said Poke promptly.

“Well, which?”

“Both, please.”

“You’ll not get both. Which do you want, Hope?”

“Milk, please. Have a sandwich, Poke?”

“_A_ sandwich?” murmured Poke, helping himself liberally after

determining the kind he wanted. “Why put the ‘a’ in?”

“Now,” said Jeffrey presently, when the first pangs of hunger had been

assuaged, “let’s talk about a name for the canoe, fellows.”

“Mayn’t I help too?” asked Hope.

“Why, of course; I want you to!”

“You said ‘fellows,’ and I didn’t know.”

“Excuse me,” Jeffrey laughed, “I should have said ‘Lady and fellows.’ I

tell you how we’ll do it. We’ll start and go around the circle in turn.

You’re first, Jim. What do you say?”

Crofton Chums · 第 14 / 25 章