hing
almost like a certainty.

There was no lumber at Rocky Point. We rummaged through a pile of
driftwood and found some half-rotted two-by-sixes. These we hacked into
paddles. They weighed, when thoroughly soaked, at least fifteen pounds
apiece.

Sending Bill and Frank on ahead with the skiff and the small store of
provisions, Charley and I, the Kid at the steering rope, set out pushing
the power canoe with the paddles. The skiff was very soon out of sight.

The _Atom_, very fast under power, was, with paddles, the slowest boat
imaginable. There was no lift to her prow, no exhilarating leap as with
the typical light canoe driven by regulation paddles. And she was as
unwieldy as a log. A light wind blew up-stream, and the current was very
slow. After dark we caught up with Bill and Frank, who had supper
waiting. I had been tasting venison all day; but there was none for
supper. In spite of a night's smoking, all of it had spoiled. This left
us without meat. Our provisions now consisted mostly of flour. We had a
few potatoes and some toasted wind called "breakfast food." During six
or seven hours of hard work at the paddles, we had covered no more than
fifteen miles. These facts put together gave no promising result. In
addition to this, it was impossible to stir up a song. Even the liquor
wouldn't bring it out. And the flapjacks were not served _a la
chansonnette_ that night. I tried to explain why the trip was only
beginning to get interesting; but my words fell flat. And when the
irrepressible Kid essayed a joke, I alone laughed at it, though rather
out of gratitude than mirth.

[Illustration: "WALKING" BOATS OVER SHALLOWS.]

[Illustration: TYPICAL UPPER MISSOURI RIVER REACH.]

[Illustration: THE MOUTH OF THE JAMES.]

There are many men who live and die with the undisputed reputation of
being good fellows--your friends and mine--who, if put to the test,
would fail miserably. Fortunate is that man to whom it is not given to
test all of his friends. This is not cynicism; it is only human nature;
and I love human nature, being myself possessed of so much of it. I
admire it when it stands firmly upon its legs, and I love it when it
wabbles. But when it gains power with increasing odds, grows big with
obstacles, I worship it.

"To thrill with the joy of girded men,
To go on forever and fail, and go on again--
With the half of a broken hope for a pillow at night--"

Thus it should have been. But tha