The canoes arrived on the following morning ere our breakfast was dispatched, and having stowed into them our fishing-gear and the requisites for a simple meal, we were about embarking when Don, who was directed to sit on the bottom of one, between the two Indian boys, entered a violent protest, and seating himself on a log instead, announced he should either not go at all, or should be allowed to pole and have sole charge of one end of the canoe. This proposition astounded all who could understand, and would have astounded the others still more if they had understood it; but ere we had recovered our breath Don commenced explaining his views:
“For many years I have heard of voyaging in a canoe; have thought it the chief pleasure of the wilderness, and have been anxious not only to learn how, but to do it. Of course, you will hardly expect me to know how to manage so frail a boat without practice, and yet if I never practise, how am I to learn? It is self-evident I must commence some time. If you admit that, and you can scarcely dispute it, what better time could I have than the present? You propose to take the bow of the other canoe, and although you are probably not as expert as the savages, you did not acquire such skill as you possess intuitively, but by experience. You will probably suggest that I may upset; if so, the consequences fall only on myself. You have put no stores in this canoe, and the ducking will be mine. Let one of the Indians stay behind, for I have counted upon this as my greatest pleasure.”
“But, Don,” I reasoned mildly, somewhat appalled at the prospective consequences, “you will smash the canoe.”
“Oh, no; you did not do so when you commenced; and if I do, it is not worth over fifteen dollars, and I can pay for it. We have stores enough, and I can make up the difference to you.”
“But you will never succeed——”
“Pooh, pooh! You succeeded, why not I? I do not ask you to give up the pleasure which I see plainly you are bent upon, but we can leave one of the Indians here; I will go with the other, and you with Frank. That will make the load lighter, besides.”
“Has monsieur ever poled a canoe?” asked Frank, wonderingly.
“No; but I must commence. Of course, I will have difficulty at first, but it will come; do not trouble yourself about me.”
“The work of poling against a strong current is tremendous, and the river being low, the rapids are unusually heavy. You will be entirely exhausted ere you have gone half-way.”
“Do not worry yourself about my sufferings; although your argument is evidently defective, as low water cannot be stronger than high, if I fail to keep up with you I can lag behind or come home.”