[CHAPTER XVIII]
GARY CHALLENGES
The canoe came on Wednesday. Of course by this time, as Gil had predicted, its name had been shortened to “Mike,” which was a very plebeian title for such a handsome craft. It was quite the best looking canoe in the school boat-house, although Brandon Gary and “Punk” Gibbs owned between them a craft that, when new, had been a marvel of white and gold. Now it was pretty well scratched and battered, and there were palpable patches showing along the bottom. Jeffrey was properly proud of his new possession, and spent most of Wednesday afternoon in or about it. It paddled beautifully, he decided, sat well on the water and was altogether a treasure. He paddled far down the river in the Mi-Ka-Noo and worked back in the golden glory of an autumn sunset, with the afterglow tingeing the surface of the little stream with coppery lights and the blade of his paddle trickling golden drops as it hung between strokes above the placid surface. In the boat-house he found an empty rack and saw the canoe carefully laid away on it, holding his breath for fear the boatman might mar the glistening varnish of its sides.
The next forenoon he and Poke hurried down to the boat-house between recitations. Sammy, the boatman, left his bench in the repair shop and lifted the Mi-Ka-Noo into the water for them. Jeffrey got into the stern and Poke settled himself in the bow and they started up-river. Poke was eager now to learn how to paddle and so there was a ten-minute lesson. By the time they had dropped Biscuit Island from sight he was doing very well, although he had not yet mastered the twist of the paddle at the end of the stroke. Jeffrey, however, kept the canoe in its course and Poke persevered in his efforts to “get the hang of it,” as he said. Half a mile up-stream Jeffrey called a halt and they pulled the canoe in under the branches of the trees and rested awhile, Poke ascertaining, by a glance at his watch, that they still had a full half-hour before them.
“It’s funny how it tires your shoulders,” said Poke, as he dropped his watch back. “I believe I can get onto it all right, though.”
“Of course you can,” Jeffrey responded. “There’s no trick to it. It’s just a hard, steady drive and then a half-turn of the blade before you take it out.”
“I know, but it’s that half-turn that puzzles me. I get it sometimes, and then the next time I almost lose my paddle.”
“Want to try the stern going back?”
But Poke shook his head. “I don’t think I’d better yet. I might put Mike onto the bank or into a snag. Here’s some one coming up. Looks like Bull Gary. Not only looks, but is. And Gibbs with him.”