."

"I should like to try," said Marco.

"Perhaps we shall have an opportunity at some place on the river," said
Forester.

Here Marco suddenly interrupted the conversation by pointing up the
river to a column of smoke and steam which he saw rising beyond a point
of land which was just before them.

"Here comes another steamboat," said he. "See, Forester."

"No," said Forester, "I believe that is a steam mill."

"A steam mill!" repeated Marco.

"Yes," replied Forester. "They have steam mills and tide mills to saw up
the logs in this part of the river. Farther up, where there are
waterfalls on the river, or on the streams which empty into it, they
build mills which are carried by water. I presume that that is a steam
mill."

At this moment, Marco's attention was diverted from the steam mill by a
boat which came gliding into the field of view. There was one man in the
boat rowing it. Another sat in the stern, with a pole in his hand. The
pole had an iron hook in the end of it. A short distance before the boat
was a log floating upon the water. The oarsman was rowing the boat
towards the log. He brought it up to it in such a manner that the other
man could strike his hook into it. When this was done, the oarsman
began to pull the boat towards the shore, drawing the log with it.

By this time the whole group disappeared from Marco's view, behind a
boat which was hanging on the quarter of the steamer. Marco, who wished
to watch the whole proceeding, left Forester, and ran aft, in hopes that
he could get another view of the men in the boat. He found, however,
that the steamboat was proceeding so rapidly up the river, that he was
fast losing sight of them; and then he concluded to go forward to the
bows of the steamboat, thinking that, perhaps, there might be other logs
coming down the river, with men after them in boats.

When he reached the bows, Marco found the deck encumbered with cables
and anchors, and heavy boxes of freight, which made it difficult for him
to find his way to a good place for a view. He finally reached a place
where, by standing upon an anchor, he could look over the bulwarks, and
get a view of the expanse of water before him. It was smooth, and its
glassy surface was bright with the reflection of the rays of the morning
sun.

Marco admired the beauty of the river and of its banks, but he could see
no boats, or even logs coming. He saw some large sand banks before him,
which had been left b