here is a
channel, and I suppose that pilot up there in the pilot-house knows
where it is, but I don't see any." Just then the water before them
suddenly shoaled, there was a soft, grating sound, a thud, and the
boat stopped, hard and fast aground. The "New Lucy" had joined the
fleet of belated steamers on the shoals of Prairie Bend.

The order was given for all passengers to go aft; and while the lads
were wondering what they were so peremptorily sent astern for, they
saw two tall spars that had been carried upright at the bow of the
boat rigged into the shape of a V upside down, and set on either side
of the craft, the lower ends resting on the sand-bar each side of her.
A big block and tackle were rigged at the point where the spars
crossed each other over the bow of the boat, and from these a stout
cable was made fast to the steamer's "nose," as the boys heard
somebody call the extreme point of the bow.

"They are actually going to hoist this boat over the sand-bar," said
Sandy, excitedly, as they viewed these preparations from the rear of
the boat.

"That is exactly what they are going to do," said the pleasant-faced
young man from Baltimore. "Now, then!" he added, with the air of
one encouraging another, as the crew, laying hold of the tackle, and
singing with a queer, jerky way, began to hoist. This would not
avail. The nose of the boat was jammed deep into the sand, and so the
cable was led back to a windlass, around which it was carried.
Then, the windlass being worked by steam, the hull of the steamer
rose very slightly, and the bottom of the bow was released from the
river-bottom. The pilot rang his bell, the engine puffed and
clattered, and the boat crept ahead for a few feet, and then came to
rest again. That was all that could be done until the spars were
reset further forward or deep water was reached. It was discouraging,
for with all their pulling and hauling, that had lasted for more than
an hour, they had made only four or five feet of headway.

"At the rate of five feet an hour, how long will it take us to spar
our way down to St. Louis?" asked Charlie, quizzically.

"Oh, Charlie," cried Sandy, "I know now why the clerk said that there
were plenty of fellows who had to spar their way on the river. It is
hard work to pull this steamer over the sand-bars and shoals, and when
a man is busted and has to work his way along, he's like a steamboat
in a fix, like this one is. See? That's the reason why