[CHAPTER XIV]
UP THE RIVER
They were off at nine o’clock the next morning, Jeffrey and Poke in one canoe and Jim and Gil and Hope in another. The basket of luncheon reposed between Jeffrey and Poke, the latter declaring that it was needed as ballast. Their canoe was not a very good one and was the smaller of the two, and Poke had only secured it, from two juniors who were in possession of it when he arrived at the boat-house, by his moving eloquence. It was a fine autumn morning, warm and sunny, and it seemed that the whole school had elected to spend the forenoon on the river. For the first quarter of a mile the stream was alive with canoes and skiffs. Then the throng dwindled and soon the voyagers had the river to themselves.
Poke was making hard work of paddling, although all that Jeffrey required of him was “push,” as he put it. “Just stick your blade in, Poke, and push it back. I’ll look after the steering.”
“That’s all very well,” answered Poke, “but I keep skinning my knuckles on the side of the canoe.”
“Then put your left hand higher up on the paddle,” Jeffrey laughed. “And when you get tired, change over to the other side.”
“I’m not comfortable,” Poke grumbled presently. “This thing you call a seat is as hard as a rock. Why don’t they have cushions in canoes?”
“Some do,” Jeffrey replied. “When I get mine I’ll have a cushion especially for you, Poke, with your initials on it.”
“Just as long as you don’t ask me to sit on it, all right. I say, Gil, how are you getting on?”
“Pretty well, thank you. How are you?”