The boat rolled considerably when Jack steered her slanting with the current; but there was never a time when the young pilot did not have her under complete control; and if a wave that was larger than ordinary swooped down toward them he instantly changed the course so that it followed behind, and would not strike the Tramp on the counter, and splash water aboard.
In this fashion, then, they drew nearer the shore. Both boys were on the lookout, for many crafts had been moving about on the water at the confluence of the two rivers, though by degrees they left these behind as they made progress down stream.
"It's afther getting near our toime, I'm thinkin'," remarked Jimmie, with a shrewd squint up at the sun, pretty well along down the western heavens.
"Yes, we have just enough to find some sort of a refuge for the night," replied Jack. "You see the current is getting so swift now that it's dangerous for a small boat like ours to anchor near the shore. When one of those big packets goes past it draws the water off, and then lets it come back with a rush. We might be upset, or thrown on the rocks, and get smashed."
"Thin it's us till a nate little cove, or a swate creek!" exclaimed Jimmie. "Only I do be hopin' that this toime we run aginst no polace officers or thaves. It do distarb me more nor I care to be waked up so suddint loike, and arristed for something I niver did."
On this occasion they were compelled to go a mile or so after the time had expired, before finding what they sought. But it was worth the penalty, both thought, as they pushed into the little opening, where they could rest in peace, without the fear of an upset on account of the "wash" from passing steamboats.
They remained near the mouth of the creek as long as daylight lasted, so that a watch could be kept, in order to signal either of the other boats, should one of them heave in sight.
But there was no such luck. Apparently neither had reached the third station, for Jack had scanned the shore line for miles just before they came in, without seeing any sign.
That night passed without any incident of note; although Jimmie insisted upon having an entry made in the log to the effect that his first effort at flapjack making proved an elegant success, since not one of the mess was left. But if the truth were told it would be found that the cook himself accounted for something like three-fourths of the number. And then he had the nerve to declare that he had made only one mistake, which was in limiting the amount of flour used.
"Looks like we might have a nice loafing spell over Sunday for a change now," remarked Jack on the following morning when, having partaken of breakfast, they moved down to a position nearer the river, where they could use the glass to advantage.