“Yes, we’re on our way,” said Mr. Howbridge, giving the wheel a turn and sending the houseboat out into the stream.
The trip up the Gentory River was no less delightful than the voyage on the canal had been, if one may call journeying on such a quiet stream a voyage. It was faster travel, of course, with the motor sending the Bluebird along.
“The only thing is, though,” said Hank, who sat near the wheel with Neale, “I haven’t anything to do. I miss the mules.”
“Oh, I guess there’ll be enough to do. Especially when we get up on the lake. You’ll have to help manage the boat,” remarked Neale. “I hear they have pretty good storms on Macopic.”
“They do,” confirmed Hank.
They motored along until dusk that evening, and then, as their way led for a time through a part of the stream where many craft navigate, it was decided to tie up for the night. It passed without incident, and they were on their way again the next morning.
It was calculated that the trip on the river would take three days, but an accident to the motor the second day delayed them, and they were more likely to be five than three days. However, they did not mind the wait.
The break occurred on a lonely part of the stream, and after stopping the craft and tying up, Neale announced, after an examination, that he and Hank could make the needful repairs.
“We’ll start in the morning,” said the boy.
“Then we’ll just go ashore and walk about a little,” suggested Ruth, and soon she and her sisters and Mr. Howbridge were on the bank of the beautiful stream.