"Wall, sir, yeou wuden't b'lieve it. She jus' guv one loud snort, shuk herself out'n went right erlong."
The loss of his paddle caused Paul to remain at Northumberland all night, and fortunately it was found among a lot of driftwood next morning, enabling him to drive ahead again.
One of the drawbacks of the voyage was the difficulty experienced in getting proper provisions at many places. Numbers of people were either thoughtless, or they looked on Boyton as an uncanny sort of creature, whom they did not care to have about. When he did get food, it consisted of pie, which seemed to be the staff of life with most of the country people. He inquired of a voluble fellow where he could be best accommodated at Northumberland.
"Oh, stop at th' hotel, b' all means. They feed yeou tip top; high up," said he, "I've been ter dinner there w'en they've hed all o' seven kinds er pie on ther table t'onct."
"Have they got apples and squash?" jokingly asked the Captain.
"Yeou kin jus' bet on thet," was the enthusiastic answer.
Just below Northumberland, which place he left at nine o'clock, he encountered a dam and very rough water. The weather became squally, with a cold and cutting snow beating into his face; but he plied the paddle vigorously and made remarkable progress, reaching Lancaster at one thirty o'clock. Countrymen whom he passed would stare at him and then burst out into loud guffaws of laughter as though immensely tickled at the idea of a man paddling down the river in a driving snow storm.
At length Paul began to feel the livelier motion of the water as he was nearing Lunenburg, where the Fifteen Mile Falls begin. Wishing to enter that dangerous stretch a fresh man, he pulled up for the night and luckily found a hospitable farmer in the person of Mr. Frank Bell, who entertained him handsomely until morning.
He was prepared for heavy work when he started early next day, and well it was that he was fortified for the occasion, as the Fifteen Mile Falls proved about as rough an experience as he had ever gone through. At Holbrook's Bar, the last pitch of the falls, M'Indoe's Dam, Barnet Pitch and other place, he encountered many dangers in the way of whirling currents and jagged rocks. He suffered but a slight bruise in the descent though his dress was cut and he was obliged to stop and repair it at Lower Waterford where he remained over night. At a little settlement above that village, someone in a small gathering on the bank said:
"Hure comes that pesky swimmer aroun' th' bow, an' he's a cumin' like forty."