Forester and Marco got their boat’s crew well trained in the course of a week or two, and one pleasant day in September they planned a long expedition in their boat.  The boys collected at the house of the owner of the boat, at one o’clock.  Two of them carried a large basket which Forester had provided.  It was quite heavy, and they did not know what was in it; but they supposed that it was a store of some sort of provisions for a supper, in case they should be gone so long as to need a supper.  Forester carried a hatchet also.

At the proper word of command, the boys got into the boat and took their several stations.  Marco took his place forward to act as bowman.  It is the duty of the bowman to keep a lookout forward, that the boat does not run into any danger; and also, when the boat comes to land, to step out first and hold it by the painter, that is, the rope which is fastened to the bow, while the others get out.  Marco had a pole, with an iron spike and also an iron hook in the end of it, which he used to fend off with, as they called it, when the boat was in danger of running against any obstacle.  This was called a boat-hook.

“Attention!” said Forester, when the boys were all seated.

“Toss!”

Hereupon the boys raised the oars into the air, ready to let them down into the water.

“Let fall!” said Forester.  The oars all fell gently and together into their places.

“Give way!” said Forester.

The boat began immediately to glide rapidly over the water, under the impulse which the boys gave it in rowing. “Crew at ease,” said Forester.

So the boys went on rowing, but understood that they had liberty to talk.  One of them wished to know where Forester was going with them; but Forester said it was entirely contrary to the discipline aboard a man-of-war for the crew to ask the captain where they were going.  “Besides,” said Forester, “though I could easily tell you, I think you will enjoy the expedition more, to know nothing about it beforehand, but to take every thing as it comes.”

Forester steered in such a manner as to put the head of the boat toward a bank at some distance from where they started, on which there was a thick forest of firs and other evergreens, growing near the water.  When they got pretty near the land, he gave the order for attention, that they might observe silence in going through whatever manoeuvers were required here.  The next order was, Oars.  At this the oarsmen stopped rowing, and held their oars horizontally over the water.  The boat in the mean time was gliding on toward the shore.

“Aboard!” said Forester.

The crew then gently raised their oars into the air, and passed them over their heads into the boat, laying them upon the thwarts in their proper position, along the middle of the boat.  By this order the crew supposed that Forester was going to land.

“Bear a hand, Mr. Bowman,” said Forester, “and fend off from the shore.”

Forester, by means of his paddle, had steered the boat up to a log which lay in the edge of the water, and Marco, at first fending off from the log, to keep the boat from striking hard, and then holding on to it with his hook, got it into a good position for landing, and held it securely.

“Crew ashore,” said Forester.

The crew, who had learned all these orders in the course of the repeated instructions which Forester and Marco had given them, began to rise and to walk toward the bow of the boat and to go ashore.  Marco landed first, and held the boat with his boat-hook, while the rest got out.  Forester then ordered Marco to make the boat fast, until they were ready to embark again.

Forester then went up in the woods a little way, with his hatchet in his hand, and began to look about among the trees.  Finally, he selected a small tree, with a round, straight stem, and began to cut it down.  The boys gathered around him, wondering what it could be for.  Forester smiled, and worked on in silence, declining to answer any of their questions.  Marco said it was for a mast, he knew, but when they asked him where the sail was, he seemed perplexed, and could not answer.

As soon, however, as the tree was cut down, it was evident that it was not intended to be used as a mast, for Forester began at once to cut it up into lengths of about two feet long.  What could be his design, the boys were utterly unable to imagine.  He said nothing, but ordered the boys to take these lengths, one by one, and put them into the boat.  There were five in all.  Then he ordered the crew on board again.  Marco got in last.  When all were seated, the order was given to shove off, the oars were tossed ­then let fall into the water.  He ordered them to back water first, by which manoeuver the boat was backed off from the land into deep water.  Then he commanded them to give way, and at the same time bringing the stern of the boat round by his paddle, the boat was made to shoot swiftly down the stream.

The boat went rapidly forward along the shores of the pond, and presently, on coming round a wooded point, the mills appeared in sight.  As they approached the mills, they kept pretty near the shore, and at length landed just above the dam.

Forester ordered the crew ashore, at a place where there was a road leading down to the water’s edge.  This road was made by the teams which came down to get logs and lumber from the water.  At Forester’s direction, the boys drew the bow of the boat up a little way upon the land.  Then he ordered the boys to take out the pieces of the stem of the little tree, and he placed one of them under the bow as a roller.  The boys then took hold of the sides of the boat, three on each side, each boy opposite to his own row-lock, while Marco stood ready to put under another roller.  The ascent was very gradual, so that the boat moved up easily, and the boys were very much surprised and delighted to see their boat thus running up upon the land.

It seemed to them an exercise of great power to be able to take so large a boat so easily and rapidly up such an ascent upon the land.  They were aided to do it by two principles.  One was the combination of their strength in one united effort, and the other was the influence of the rollers in preventing the friction of the bottom of the boat upon the ground.

Presently the whole length of the boat was out of water and resting on four rollers, which Marco had put under it, one by one, as it had advanced.  Forester would then call out, “Ahead with her!” when the boys would move about two steps.  Then Forester would give the command, “Hold on,” and they would stop.  By this time one of the rollers would come out behind, and Marco would take it up and carry it round forward, and place it under the bow, and Forester would then say, “Ahead with her!” again, and the boat would immediately advance again up the acclivity.

In a very few minutes the boat was thus rolled up into a sort of a road, where the way was level.  Here it went very easily.  Presently it began to descend, and soon the boys saw that Forester was taking a sort of path which led by a gentle slope down to the water immediately below the mill.  They were very much pleased at this, for, as they had had a great many excursions already on the mill-pond, they had become familiar with it in all its parts, and they were much animated at the idea of exploring new regions.  In going down to the water on the lower side of the mill, they had, of course, no exertion to make to draw the boat, as its own weight was more than sufficient to carry it down upon the rollers.  They only had to hold it back to prevent its running down too fast, and to keep it properly guided.

“It goes down pretty easy,” said Marco; “but I don’t see how you are ever going to get it back again.”

It was, in fact, a long and rather steep descent.  The boys thought that it would require far more strength than they could exercise, to bring the boat up such an inclination.  Forester told them not to fear.  He said that a good commander never put too much upon his men, or voluntarily got them into any difficulty without planning beforehand a way to get out.

They soon got down to the water’s edge again.  Here, instead of the broad and smooth pond which they had above the dam, they found a stream eddying, and foaming, and flowing rapidly down between rocks and logs.  There was a bridge across the stream too, a short distance below.  The boys were a little inclined to be afraid to embark, in what appeared to be a rather dangerous navigation, but they had confidence in Forester, and so they readily obeyed when Forester ordered the crew aboard.

“Now, Mr. Bowman,” said Forester, “keep a sharp lookout ahead for rocks and snags, and fend off well when there is any danger.”

So Marco kneeled upon a small seat at the bow of the boat, and looked into the water before him, while Forester propelled and guided the boat with his paddle.  They advanced slowly and by a very tortuous course, so as to avoid the rocks and shallows, and at length, just above the bridge, they came to a wider and smoother passage of water:  and here Forester ordered the oars out.  There was only room for them to take four or five strokes before they came to the bridge, and under the bridge there was only a very narrow passage where they could go through.  This passage was between one of the piers and a gravel bed.  As they advanced toward it, Forester called out, “Give way strong!” and all the boys pulled their oars with all their strength, without, however, accelerating the strokes.  This gave the boat a rapid headway, and then Forester gave the order to trail, when the boys simultaneously lifted the oars out of the row-locks and let them drift in the water alongside of the boat.  As the boat was advancing very swiftly, the oars were immediately swept in close to her sides, and thus were out of the way, and the boat glided safely and swiftly through the passage, and emerged into a broader sheet of smooth water beyond.

“Recover!” said Forester.  The boys then, by a peculiar manoeuver which they had learned by much practice, brought back their oars into the row-locks, and raised the blades out of the water, so as to get them into a position for rowing. “Give way!” said Forester, and immediately they were all in motion, the boat gliding swiftly down the stream.

After they had gone on in this way a few minutes, Forester ordered the oars apeak, and put the crew at ease.  When the oars are apeak, they are drawn in a little way, so that the handle of each oar may be passed under a sort of cleat or ledge, which runs along on the inside of the boat near the upper edge of it.  This keeps the oar firm in its place without the necessity of holding it, the handle being under this cleat, while the middle of the oar rests in the row-lock.  Thus the oarsmen are relieved from the necessity of holding their oars, and yet the oars are all ready to be seized again in a moment, whenever it becomes desirable to commence rowing.

Meantime the boat slowly drifted down the stream.  The water was here deep and comparatively still, and the boys amused themselves with looking over the sides into the depths of the water.  They glided noiselessly along over various objects, ­now a great flat rock, now a sunken tree, and now a bed of yellow sand.  Every now and then, Forester would order the oars out, and make the oarsmen give way for a few strokes, so as to give the boat what they called steerage way, that is, way through the water, so that holding the paddle in one position or the other would steer it.  In this way Forester guided the boat in the right direction, keeping it pretty near the middle of the stream.

This mill-stream, as has already been stated, emptied into the river, and the boat was now rapidly approaching the place of junction.  In a few minutes more the river came into view.  The boys could see it at some distance before them, running with great rapidity by a rocky point of land which formed one side of the mouth of the brook.

“Now, boys,” said Forester, “is it safe for us to go out into that current?”

“Yes,” said Marco, “by all means, ­let us go.”

“Perhaps we shall upset in the rips,” said some of the boys.

“No matter if we do,” said Marco; “it is not deep in the rips, and of course there is no danger.”

“That is in our favor certainly,” said Forester.  “Whenever the current sets strong, there it is sure to be shallow, so that if we upset we should not be drowned; and where it is deep, so as to make it dangerous for us to get in, it is always still, and thus there is no danger of upsetting.”

“What is the reason of that?” said one of the boys.

“The reason is given in this way,” said Forester, “in the college mathematics.  The velocity of a stream is inversely as the area of the section.”

The boys did not understand such mathematical phraseology as this, and so Forester clothed his explanation in different language.  He said that where the stream was shallow or narrow, the current must be more rapid, in order to get all the water through in so small a space, but where it is deep, it may move slowly.

Forester landed his crew upon the rocky point, where they had a very pleasant view up and down the river.  He proposed to them to have their luncheon there, and to this they agreed.  So they went back to the edge of the rocks, where there was a little grove of trees, and they sat down upon a log which had been worn smooth by the action of the water in floods, and bleached by the sun.

There were plenty of dry sticks and slabs lying about upon the shore, which Forester ordered the crew to collect in order to build a fire.  It was not cold, and they had no need of a fire for any purposes of cooking, but a fire would look cheerful and pleasant, and they accordingly made one.  Forester had some matches in his pocket.  Two of the crew brought the basket from the boat, and when they had opened it, they found an abundant store of provisions.  There was a dozen or more of round cakes, and a large apple-pie, which, as there were just eight of them, gave forty-five degrees to each one.  There was also a jug of milk, and a silver mug, which Forester’s mother had lent them for the excursion, to drink out of.

The boys, whose appetites had been sharpened by their exertions in the portage of the boat round the falls, and in rowing, did not cease to eat until the provisions were entirely exhausted, and then they carried the empty basket back to the boat.  Soon after this, Forester summoned what he called a council of war, to consider the question whether they had better go down the river.  He said he wanted their true and deliberate judgment in the case.  He did not wish them to say what they would like, merely, but what they thought, on the whole, was best.  He told them that he should not be governed by their advice, but, after hearing all that they had to say, he should act according to his own judgment.

“Then what’s the use of asking us at all?” said Marco.

“Why, what you will say may modify my judgment.  I did not say that I shall decide according to my judgment as it is now, but as it will be after I have heard what you will have to say.  I shall be influenced perhaps by your reasons, but I shall decide myself.  That is the theory of a council of war.  The commander may be influenced by the arguments of his subalterns, but he is not governed by their votes.”

Forester then called upon each of the boys, in succession, to give his opinion on the point.  Marco was in favor of going down the river, but all the rest, though they said that they should like to go very much, thought it would not answer, as it would be almost impossible to get the boat up again over the rips.  After the consultation was concluded, Forester said, “Well, boys, you have all given wise opinions except Marco, and his is not wise.  Now we’ll go aboard the boat.”

“Crew aboard!” said Forester.  The other orders followed in rapid succession:  Attention!  Toss!  Let fall!  Backwater!  Oars!  Give way! The boys considered it settled, on hearing what Forester had said of the wisdom of their several opinions, that they were now going back toward the mill; but how they were going to get the boat back above the dam they did not know, though they did not doubt that Forester had some good plan which he had not explained to them.  Instead, however, of turning the head of the boat up the stream, Forester pointed it toward the river.  They supposed that he was going out to the edge of the river, and that then he would turn and come back; but, to their utter amazement, he pushed boldly on directly into the current, and then, putting his helm hard up and calling out to the crew to give way strong, the boat swept round into the very center of the stream and shot down the river over the rips like an arrow.

“Give way, boys, hearty,” said Forester.  “Give way strong.”

The boys pulled with all their strength, and the boat went swifter and swifter.  Forester kept it in the middle of the current, where the water was deepest, though even here it was very shallow.  Marco, in the mean time, who was stationed at the bows, kept a sharp lookout forward, and gave Forester notice of any impending danger.  They soon got through the rips and came to the deep and still water below, where the current was gentle and the surface smooth.  Here Forester ordered the oars apeak, and the crew at ease.

“We never shall get back in the world,” said one of the boys; “forty men couldn’t row the boat up those rips.”

“Let us try,” said Forester.  So he ordered the oars out again, and put the boat under way.  He brought her head round so as to point up stream, and calling upon the crew to give way strong, he forced her back into the rapid water.  They went on a few rods, but long before they reached the most rapid part, they found that with all their exertions they could make no progress.  The boat seemed stationary. “Oars,” said Forester.  The boys stopped rowing, holding their oars in the air, just above the water.  Forester then, by means of his paddle, turned the boat round again, saying, “Well, if we can’t go up, we can go down stream.”  He then ordered the crew to give way again, and they began to glide along swiftly down the river.

The boys wondered how Forester was going to get back, but he told them to give themselves no concern on that score.  “That responsibility rests on me,” said he.

“But how came you to come down here,” said Marco, “when you said my advice wasn’t good?”

“I said your opinion was not wise.  The boys who advised me not to come were wiser than you.  They gave better advice, so far as they and you understood the case.  But I know something which you do not, as is usual with commanders, ­and therefore I came down.  In view of all that you know, it would have been wisest to have gone back, but in view of all that I know, it is wisest to come down.”

The curiosity of the boys was very much excited to know what it could be that Forester knew which rendered coming down the river wise; but Forester would make no explanations.  He said that commanders were not generally very communicative to their crews.  In the mean time the boat went on, sometimes shooting swiftly through the rapids, and sometimes floating in a more calm and quiet manner on the surface of the stiller water.  In this way they went on more than a mile, enjoying the voyage very highly, and admiring the varied scenery which was presented to their view at every turn of the stream.

At one place the boys landed upon a small sandy beach under some overhanging rocks.  They amused themselves in climbing about the rocks for a time, and then they were ordered aboard again, and sailed on.

Now it happened that the river, in the part of its course over which this voyage had been performed, took a great circuit, and though they had followed its course for more than a mile, they were now drawing near to a place which was not very far from Forester’s father’s house, ­being about as much below it, as the place where the boat belonged in the mill-pond was above it.  As they approached the point where the river turned again, Marco, who was looking out before, saw a sort of landing, where there was a man standing, together with a yoke of oxen.  It was just sunset when they approached this spot.  When they arrived at it, the whole mystery was explained, for they found that the man was James, who lived at Forester’s father’s, and the oxen were his father’s oxen.  James had come down, under an appointment which Forester had secretly made with him, with the oxen and a drag, and by means of them he hauled the boat across to the mill-pond again, by a back road which led directly across the pastures, and lanched it safely again into the water close to the dwelling of its owner.  So the boys had, as it were, the pleasure of sliding down hill, without the labor of drawing their sleds up again.

Marco was very much pleased with this expedition.  Forester told him when they got home, that the Indians often carried their canoes around falls, or from one river to another, and that such carrying-places were called portages.