Shortly after dawn Tom awakened and became conscious of a steady vibration and the rhythmical splash of the paddle wheel. Hurriedly dressing he went out on deck and glanced shoreward. The cream-and-chocolate colored water, of an opacity dense enough to hide a piece of shell only a quarter of an inch below its surface, rioted past; to port was a low-lying island covered with an amazing mass of piled-up trees, logs and débris, deposited there by the racing current of the rapidly-falling stream; and the distant shore was covered with dense forests of walnut and cottonwood, interspersed with rich bottoms masked by tangles of brush. Farther up he knew the sight would change into an almost treeless expanse of green prairies, gashed by scored bluffs of clay. The surface of the river was not smooth and the wind already had reached disturbing strength, while an occasional gust of chilling rain peppered the water and assaulted the boat. From the beat of the paddles and the high frequency of the vibrations he knew the Belle was going ahead under full steam, but his momentary frown was effaced by the thought that the pilot was competent and knew what he was doing. Still, he felt a little uneasy, and went forward to pay the pilot a visit.
Reaching the hurricane deck he saw both pilots at the wheel and also a lookout on the roof of the little house, while in the very point of the bow, on the main deck, another lookout was scrutinizing the river ahead.
"We're makin' good time," said Tom pleasantly as he poked his head in the pilot house.
"Yes," came an answering grunt; "too good, mebby."
His words and manner were not calculated to encourage conversation and the visitor went down to see about breakfast. Fortified by a cup of coffee he felt able to wait until the meal was ready and went out on deck again, standing in the shelter of an angle of the cabin, pretending to be interested in the slowly shifting panorama, but really impatiently waiting for the appearance of Patience Cooper. He had waited for about an hour, hardly stirring from his post near the door which she had used the morning before, when he caught sight of her crossing the cabin. Turning from the window and stepping forward he opened the door for her and after a short, cheerful talk about being under way again, led her to the breakfast table, ignoring the scowling horse-dealer who sat at a table in a corner talking to Elias Stevens.
Their breakfast did not take as long as it had on the previous morning, one reason being that while they ate they sensed the boat turn toward the shore and before they had finished it stopped along the bank and moored again.
"I do believe the rain has ceased for the day," Patience observed, peering out of the window by her side. "It is growing brighter every minute. I wonder why the boat has stopped?"
"Too much wind," answered her companion, nodding at the waves running past the boat.