“Nothing; only I’m going to try to get him to come down the Magog in a canoe, so he can see what a nice run it is. I suppose his body will be found some time, unless the bears get at him.”
“That’s all rubbish, Joe,” said Charley. “We wouldn’t have had half the fun we’ve had if there hadn’t been any rapids in the river. We’re none the worse for getting a little wet.”
“We might have had less fun, but then I’d have had more trousers if it hadn’t been for that dam. I like fun as well as anybody, but I can’t land at Sherbrooke with these trousers.”
“I see Sherbrooke now!” exclaimed Harry; “so you’d better change your clothes while you have a chance.”
Sherbrooke was coming rapidly into sight as the fleet paddled down the stream, and in the course of half an hour the boys landed in the village, near a dam which converted the swift Magog into a lazy little pond. While his comrades drew the canoes out of the water and made them ready to be carted to the St. Francis, Harry went to engage a cart. He soon returned with a big wagon large enough to take two canoes at once; and it was not long before the fleet was resting in the shade on the bank of the St. Francis, and surrounded by a crowd of inquisitive men, boys, and girls.
It was difficult to convince the men that the canoes had actually come from Lake Memphremagog by the river, and the boys were made very proud of their success in running rapids which, the men declared, could only be run in skiffs during a freshet. Without an exception all the men agreed that there were rapids in the St. Francis which were really impassable, and that it would be foolish for the boys to think of descending that river. After making careful inquiries, and convincing themselves that the men were in earnest, the canoeists retired some distance from the crowd and held a council.
“The question is,” said Harry, “shall we try the St. Francis after what we have heard? The youngest officer present will give his opinion first. What do you say, Joe?”
“I think I’ve had rapids and dams enough,” replied Joe; “and I’d rather try some river where we can sail. I vote against the St. Francis.”
“What do you say, Tom?”