“Gee whiz, it’s interesting,” said Bob at last, when Jerry put the fascinating instrument away.
“After you’ve carried one for about five years you won’t think it so interesting,” returned Jerry, suddenly remembering that he was a grouch.
The night came down cold. The boys were glad to bundle up into their sleeping bags and get what rest they could. The novelty and excitement could keep Bob awake for only a little while, for the danger into which he was headed did not worry him for a moment, and he was very tired. He wanted adventure and he was going to have it. Only one thing deterred him at all, and that was the thought of his father. But before he had left the hotel at the Grand Canyon he had written a letter explaining to the older Hazard what he was planning to do. He had, of course, minimized the danger. But, even so, when Mr. Hazard got the letter he was very much upset and had an impulse to get on the next train and bring his boy back to civilization, if he still had a boy to bring back.
Jerry was first awake in the morning. He roused Bob but not until he had a fire going and the coffee-pot singing merrily. Bob got up and, slipping off his clothes, dived into the river. The water was cold but not unpleasantly so. Jerry looked at him for a minute and laughed as he came out dripping.
“You won’t need to take a bath after this. If you don’t have about five unexpected ones during the day I miss my guess.”
Bob laughed. “Well, water won’t hurt us. You’re sort of a grouch, aren’t you, Jerry?” he said pleasantly. It was a tactless thing to say, for the other boy shut up like a clam and except as it was absolutely necessary he gave no openings for further conversation.
“Jolly sort of trip I’m going to have,” thought Bob, “if Jerry is going to keep up this sort of thing. I ought never to have said he was a grouch, though.”
After breakfast they rolled up their mattress and stowed away in the boat the things they had used during the night. At last they were ready to start.
“We might as well be going,” said Jerry. “Hop in.” He was already at the oars, which he had tied securely to the oarlocks. The wisdom of this precaution was later to be proved to them. Once Bob was in, Jerry pulled off. He was a fair oarsman and going with the current the boat made good time. At this point the river was broad and, except for the towering hills which rose in the distance, it might have been a peaceful tributary stream of any civilized river. Its calm surface gave no warning of what was to come in the way of rapids and whirlpools. After a bit Bob took the oars and as he had had more experience with boats he made even better time than Jerry had. Turn by turn they went through the morning.
It was not long before the rolling hills on either side of the stream gave way to rocky cliffs and deep gulches through which little creeks trickled into the river. The current grew faster and here and there an ugly rock showed its head above the surface, the water rushing by angrily on either side.