Then they all chopped round and changed their minds in a moment—the fickle French—and they helped me with a will, and carried the Rob Roy about a mile to the spot fixed upon for the start, which was speedily executed, with a loud and warm "Adieu!" and "Bon voyage!" from all the spectators.
It was pleasant again to grasp the paddle and to find pure clear water below, which I had not seen since the Danube, and to have a steady current alongside that was so much missed on the sluggish river Ill and the Basel Canal.
Pretty water flowers quivered in the ripples round the mossy stones, and park-like meadows sloped to the river with fruit trees heavy laden. After half an hour of congratulation that we had come to the Moselle rather than the Saone and the Doubs, I settled down to my day's work with cheerfulness.
The water of this river was very clear and cool, meandering through long deep pools, and then over gurgling shallows; and the fish, waterfowl, woods, and lovely green fields were a most welcome change from the canal we had left. The sun was intensely hot, but the spare "jib," as a shawl on my shoulders, defied its fierce rays, and so I glided along in solitary enjoyment. The numerous shallows required much activity with the paddle, and my boat got more bumped and thumped to-day than in any other seven days of the tour. Of course I had often to get out and to tow her through the water; sometimes through the fields, or over rocks, but this was easily done with canvas shoes on, and flannel trousers that are made for constant ducking.
The aspect of the river was rather of a singular character for some miles, with low banks sloping backwards, and richly carpeted with grass, so that the view on either side was ample; while in front was a spacious picture of successive levels, seen to great advantage as the Rob Roy glided smoothly on crystal waters lipped with green. Again the playful river descends by sudden leaps and deep falls, chiefly artificial, and some trouble is caused in getting down each of these, for the boat had to be lowered by hand, with a good deal of gymnastic exercise among the slippery rocks; the mosses and lichens were studied in anything but botanical order.
At this period of the voyage the paddle felt so natural in my hands from long use of it every day, that it was held unconsciously. In the beginning of my practice I had invented various tethers and ties to secure this all-important piece of furniture from being lost if it should fall overboard, and I had practised what ought to be done if the paddle should ever be beaten out of my hand by a wave, or dropped into the water in a moment of carelessness.
But none of these plans were satisfactory in actual service. The strings got entangled when I jumped out suddenly, or I forgot the thing was tied when it had to be thrown out on the shore, so it was better to have the paddle perfectly loose; and thus free, it never was dropped or lost hold of even in those times of difficulty or confusion which made twenty things to be done, and each to be done first, when an upset was imminent, and a jump out had to be managed instead.[XXXV.]
The movement of the paddle, then, got to be almost involuntary, just as the legs are moved in walking, and the ordinary difficulties of a river seemed to be understood by the mind without special observation, and to be dealt with naturally, without hesitation or reasoning as to what ought to be done. This faculty increased until long gazes upwards to the higher grounds or to the clouds were fully indulged without apparently interrupting the steady and proper navigation of the boat, even when it was moving with speed. On one of these occasions I had got into a train of thought on this subject, and was regretting that the course of the stream made me turn my back on the best scenery. I had spun round two or three times to feast my eyes once more and again upon some glowing peaks, lit up by the setting sun, until a sort of fascination seized the mind, and a quiet lethargy crept over the system; and, moreover, a most illogical persuasion then settled that the boat always did go right, and that one need not be so much on the alert to steer well. This still held me as we came into a cluster of about a dozen rocks all dotted about, and with the stream welling over this one and rushing over that, and yet I was spellbound and doggedly did nothing to guide the boat's course.
But the water was avenged on this foolish defiance of its power, for in a moment I was driven straight on a great rock, only two inches below the surface, and the boat at once swung round, broadside on to the current, and then slowly but determinedly began to turn over. As it canted more and more my lax muscles were rudely aroused to action, for the plain fact stared out baldly that I was about to get a regular ducking, and all from a stupid, lazy fit.