The boys proceeded up the river at a very leisurely pace. There was no hurry, and Pod could not paddle rapidly anyway. The little fellow found great difficulty in keeping his canoe on a straight course with a single blade paddle, but after a little the knack of turning his blade at the end of the stroke, so as to keep in one direction came to him as it comes naturally to all who practice. He found that this turn of the paddle was done by the wrist, and that when once acquired it was a very simple matter to keep the bow headed the right way.
Fleet was the only boy in the party using a double-bladed paddle, but Fleet’s canoe was twenty feet long, rather broad of beam, and capable of holding three persons. It was a much more formidable looking craft than those owned by the other boys. Fleet, however, had paddled the big canoe all his life, and the handling of the double blade was as easy for him as “rolling off a log.”
Chot and Tom, too, were experts, but neither liked the double blade, preferring the lighter one, as well as a lighter craft.
In Fleet’s canoe was stored most of the provisions, some cooking utensils and a small tent, intended to afford shelter during a storm, when the boys were in camp and sleep was necessary. Each boy carried as his individual luggage a suit case containing a dark business suit, a couple of extra shirts, collars, a pair of patent leather shoes, and other articles necessary to make a natty appearance if the occasion arose. Ordinarily they would need only their rowing clothes, which consisted of a soft shirt, a pair of old trousers and light-soled tan shoes. Each boy carried a sweater for use when the nights were cool, or when he became overheated before landing.
The breeze had entirely died away by the time the canoes were a mile up the river, and the boys paddled easily along, keeping abreast of Pod, so that if by chance, his canoe “turned turtle,” they would be on hand to render assistance.
The little fellow evidently suspected their purpose, for he said:
“Don’t worry about me. I can swim, can’t I?”
“Guess you can,” said Chot, “and a ducking won’t hurt you, but we’re going to stay right with you anyway.”
“I’m not going to upset. This is easy.”
“Don’t brag,” said Fleet, as he pushed his paddle deep into the river and sent his big cruiser flying a length ahead, then slowed down till the other boys caught up with him. “Nobody ever went canoeing that didn’t get upset, and you’ll get yours sooner or later. Better in the old Hudson, too, than in the rapids of the St. Lawrence.”