“You can decide among yourselves which is to be stern man,” concluded the captain; “or you may even alternate, if you wish. Now suppose we man our canoes, just as we have decided to travel, and practice a little bit.”
A trifle stiff from sitting on the ground, the girls jumped up eagerly, glad of the opportunity for action. Miss Phillips obtained the paddles from Michael, and the girls began to turn the canoes right-side up.
“Why, they haven’t any names!” exclaimed Marjorie, in surprise.
“No,” replied Miss Phillips; “I forgot to tell you that you are to name them yourselves, and if you will write and tell me your decisions, I will have them painted on the edges before we start on our trip.”
Alice clapped her hands joyfully. It would seem so much more like their own canoes if they chose the names, she thought. And all of the others immediately expressed their approval of the plan.
“And now for the paddling,” said Miss Phillips, after the girls had pushed their canoes from the shore, and were drifting along rather aimlessly. “Put your shoulders and body into it—then your arms won’t get tired. And, above all, don’t reach far ahead into the water, or dip too deep. For those are the signs of a novice.
“Both girls watch cautiously for rocks, and rapids, and tree-trunks; but always let the girl in the stern do the steering. Remember—she is the boss, the captain of the boat, as it were. Finally, don’t paddle in deep, fierce water—keep away from it. And be sure to keep out of eddies. Now suppose we all paddle down stream for half a mile or so and I will watch your motions and give you directions. Of course we cannot become experienced canoeists all at once.”
The canoes shot ahead, following the direction indicated by the captain. After a short distance the stream became narrower and swifter. Tall banks on either side, covered with trees whose trunks bent toward the water, almost obscured the sun and the sky from view. The girls were enchanted with the beauty of the scene and the joy of the new experience. For some minutes they were too deeply impressed to speak. And although Miss Phillips noticed some very awkward strokes, she had too much tact to spoil the spell of the scene by criticism. That could very well wait.
It was Ruth who first broke the silence. She steered her canoe up to the side of Marjorie’s, which had up to this time taken the lead.
“I’ll race you, Marj!” she challenged.