Jacob did not see the inference, or would not. “This young man is a river-pilot,” said he; “he will take you up for two mark each boat.”
“I tell you what it is, Mr. Jacob,” said the Parson; “I will teach you a lesson. When you engaged as our courier, you meant to fleece us all pretty handsomely. Well, I have nothing to say against this. As courier, it is your undoubted privilege so to do. But remember this, it is equally your duty, as courier, to prevent any one else from fleecing us. And if I find you only once again failing in that respect, off you go at a minute’s notice. Now send your friend home again.”
Without looking behind him, the Parson, who had now finished fitting his flies, took his place in his own boat, and, directing Torkel to shove off to the other bank, threw his line across the mouth of a small tributary to the great river, which he had marked the year before as abounding with trout. Jacob looked for a moment inclined to rebel, but no man was more alive to his own interests than the ex-smuggler. He had engaged in the trip, not like Tom and Torkel, from sheer love of sport and adventure, but as a profitable speculation. So, pocketing the affront, much as “ancient Pistol” did his leek, he crept down to Birger’s boat, which was his place in the line of march, where he sat sulky, but utterly wasting his sulkiness; for Birger, anxious to keep up his yesterday’s character of a fisherman, was much too intent upon the—to him—difficult manœuvre of keeping his flies clear of the oars, to observe whether he was pleased or not.
The Captain took the inner line skirting the shore on the right bank, for it had been agreed that the flat below the Oxea rapids should be well tried, in hopes of getting some fresh fish for breakfast.
Though last in the field, he drew the first blood, hooking and, in a few minutes, landing a small salmon, and thus securing a breakfast. And by the time the boats came together again, the Parson had brought to bag a very fair supply of fjeld öret, or brook trout, from the little streamlet he had been trying. And now began the serious business of the day.
Notwithstanding Mr. Jacob’s information, the rapids of Oxea are perfectly safe to sober men. It is impossible that an accident can happen in them, except from carelessness; for the water, though swift, is everywhere deep. The stream falls with some force over a slanting ledge of smooth, slaty rock, some three or four hundred yards long or perhaps more, and acquires in its slide considerable velocity; but the bottom is smooth, and the surface nowhere broken by sunken rocks. The stream, therefore, is a steady current, surging up against the numerous islands which dot the river, as if they had been pieces of a ruined bridge. Each of these was crested with its half-dozen or so of ash or birch, which looked as if it was they that were in motion, and not the clear stream that was racing past them.
The passage was a sheer trial of strength, requiring no great amount of pilotage, or local experience, or even skill. The ropes were got out and made fast to two or three thwarts, to take off the strain; the boats were lightened of their living incumbrances—except so far as the steersmen were concerned,—and were then tracked by main force one by one, every one of the party lending a hand, except, indeed, Jacob, who considered it his duty, having once said the rapids were dangerous, to act as if he thought so, and who had, therefore, been despatched by land to the head of the rapid, with orders to light the fires and get the breakfast ready, as nothing else could be done with him.
The principal difficulty arose from the uncertainty of the footing among the crags, and the gnarled ash-trees that every here and there shot almost horizontally from between the fissures of the rock, dipping their branches into the stream. These rendered it necessary, every now and then, to make fast the boat to the tree itself, and then to float down a line to it from some point above the obstacle, for the river fortunately ran in a curve at that place. Thus, by giving a broad sheer into the stream, while the rest of the party hauled upon the rope, the boat would swing clear of the impediment.
But all this was very hard work, and, as the sun was now high in heaven, very hot work; and, moreover, it had to be repeated three times before all the boats were in safety. Fully as much justice was done to Jacob’s breakfast as had been done to his supper on the preceding evening; and most luxurious was the hour’s rest which succeeded it.
The remaining part of the voyage was easy: there was a sharp current, no doubt, too sharp for anything to speak of to be done with the flies; but it was all plain travelling, and, with an occasional help from the ropes, before noon their destination had been reached. This was the foot of a low fall, or something between a fall and a rapid, called “The Aal Foss,” in the middle of which was a picturesque rocky island, covered with trees, and on the left bank an equally picturesque peninsula, which was destined to be the head-quarters of the expedition, and the basis of subsequent operations.