The next morning when we went down to the river we found that it had risen several feet during the night.
The road reached the river at a point of land which projected some distance, and where the road had been comparatively dry the night before, behind the point, we now had to wade in order to reach the ferry landing.
It was useless to attempt hailing the ferry-boat, so we went back to our stamping ground and breakfasted upon what corn we could pick out of the ground around the spot where former campers had tarried. This corn was the scaled or wasted kernels left by horses at their feeding places.
While eating we heard a noise of men talking on the river, and at once assumed that the boat was coming over. We had no money with which to pay for crossing, and my companions, Miller especially, were very much excited over the question of what we were to do. Miller had a ring which he wanted me to take for the purpose of paying the ferryman, but I would not take it, and we nearly had a quarrel in consequence. My desire was to go to the ferry and be governed by circumstances as to what we should do, but the others wanted to have it all mapped out beforehand.
"What will you tell him, Swiggett?" asked Miller.
"How can I tell?" was my reply.
"But suppose he asks for money or is suspicious?"
"When he does or is I will meet him; but, boys, how on earth can you tell what to do or say till you know what you have to overcome? Let's go down there in a natural way and do what seems best when we get there. Come on!"
We went, my companions following me reluctantly, and Miller all in a flutter of nervous apprehension.
Reaching the landing, we found the boat nearly across, but the ferryman had all he could do to make any progress. The rise in the river had made a strong current along our shore. It was a hand ferry, and the rope was fastened in a poor line for ease in ferrying at that stage of the river.