It was a quiet stretch of water in the bend, but we took extra precautions and had strong ropes at each end fastened to heavy rocks on the shore. Jim had also selected a very heavy well-shaped stone, and we used this for an anchor at the stern.
"It's taken us a full week to get her launched," said Jim, "but before we are through with this river we will be mighty glad that the old tub is so strong and shipshape."
We now executed a dance on her main deck, which was more remarkable for action than for grace.
"She's steady as an old rock," I said. "What shall we call her?"
"The Juanita," suggested Tom, who was always something of a gallant.
"Call her 'The Colorado,'" I suggested.
"Hold on," cried Jim, "I know a better one than that. We ought to remember our old friend. Call her 'The Captain.'"
"The Captain," we cried in chorus, raising our hands in military salute. So our boat was named and well named.
"We ought to finish the superstructure in three days," said Jim. "You would have thought it was an ocean liner to hear Jim talk.
"And the oars," I said.