"He wasn't the fellow I was aiming at," I explained, "it was the one above him."
"Why didn't you keep still," came from Tom, "no one would be the wiser and you might have had the credit of a fine shot."
"I don't see it," I replied, "there's no real satisfaction in that sort of a bluff. Then, too, you establish a reputation that you can't live up to in case of need and that's no fun."
"Right you are, Jo," commented Jim. "Don't mind Tom's advice because he is going to be a lawyer."
"I'm more likely to be a cripple," retorted Tom. "That stone came near breaking my leg."
"To the oars, boys," suddenly cried Jim, "here comes another rapid. Never mind the leg now, Tom. We will run ashore as soon as we can."
So we took our places again. The board on Tom's side was smashed by a rock and as we dashed into the rapid we begun to ship water. Fortunately this series was nothing like so bad as we had before passed through.
In a half hour we got into quieter water and soon sighted a gravel beach at the foot of a cliff that here receded some.
"We will run in there and look things over," announced Jim. "Stand ready to throw over the bow anchor, Jo. The river is running strong there. We will have to catch it just right."
Partly by good luck and good management we did manage to lay alongside the gravel beach, though "the Captain" pulled taut at the anchors.