Nobody wanted to spend another day at the saw-mill. Although the wind was blowing up the river the tide was ebbing, and would help the canoes to make some little progress, in spite of the wind and sea. So after a hurried breakfast the fleet got under way at six o’clock and gallantly breasted the waves.
The boys found that paddling against so strong a head-wind was harder than they had imagined that it could be. It was almost impossible to force the upper blade of the paddle through the air when trying to make a stroke, and it was only by turning the two paddle-blades at right angles to one another, so that the upper blade would present its edge to the wind, that this could be done. The seas were so large that the two canoes which were leading would often be entirely invisible to the other canoes, though they were but a few yards apart. The Twilight, as was her habit when driven against head-seas, threw spray all over herself, and the Dawn exhibited her old vice of trying to dive through the seas. The other canoes were dry enough, but they presented more resistance to the wind, and hence were harder to paddle.
Little was said during the first half-hour, for everybody was working too hard at the paddle to have any breath to spare for talking; but finally Harry, who was in the advance with Charley, slackened his stroke, and, hailing Joe and Tom, asked them how they were getting along.
“Wet as usual,” replied Joe. “The water is pretty near up to my waist in the canoe, and two waves out of three wash right over her. But I don’t care; I’ll paddle as long as anybody else will.”
“My canoe will float, unless the bladders burst,” said Tom, “but I’ll have to stop and bail out before long, or she’ll be so heavy that I can’t stir her.”
“Never mind,” cried Joe. “Look at the splendid time we’re making. We’ve come nearly a quarter of a mile, and that means that we’re paddling at the rate of half a mile an hour. At this rate we’ll get somewhere in the course of the summer.”
“There isn’t any use in tiring ourselves out for nothing,” exclaimed Harry. “Boys! we’ll make that sand-spit right ahead of us, and wait there till the wind goes down.”
“All right,” said Joe. “Only it’s a pity to go ashore when the tide is helping us along so beautifully. That is, the Commodore said it would help us, and of course he is right.”
“No reflections on the Commodore will be allowed,” cried Harry. “Bail out your canoes, you two fellows, and Charley and I will wait for you.”
Joe was very anxious to go ashore and rest, for he was nearly tired out; but he was not willing to let Harry know that he was tired. The two boys had been disputing while on the Jacques Cartier as to their respective strength, and Harry had boasted that he could endure twice as much fatigue as Joe. This was true enough, for Harry was older and much more muscular, but Joe was determined to paddle as long as he could swing his arms rather than to admit that he was the weaker.