her peppery stew was doubly welcome after my
afternoon's drenching. She carried back with her instructions to obtain
one of my dry suits from Don Pedro and take it through to the kitchen.
About midnight, the boat chancing to swing about stern foremost in the
current, I left my watch long enough to shift into dry garments before a
crackling fire.

With the first gray glimmer of dawn through the breaking rain clouds,
Don Pedro came to take my post, and Chita slipped out in her nightshift
to set on her coffee pot. By the time I had breakfasted, the sun had
dispelled the mists, and I saw that we were already in the Long Reach,
having passed during the night by Steubenville and Wheeling. It was a
run possible only at the height of the Spring fresh.

Upon my inquiry, Don Pedro informed me that he did not wish to stop at
Marietta, that prim New England village planted by Rufus Putnam and his
fellow Yankees on the site of Old Wyandot Town. He had, however, a
letter to deliver to Mr. Harmon Blennerhasset, owner of an island some
fourteen or fifteen miles below Marietta. So, having made a rough
calculation of the speed of the current, I went in to my bunk, after
explaining that they need not waken me before midday, unless the boat
tended to leave the current.

Sharp upon the noon hour I was roused by the don, and informed that we
had already passed Marietta, some five miles back. His description of
the Muskingum River and the block houses and other buildings of the town
would have convinced me that it was indeed Marietta, had I not known
that it was the only settlement of the size between Wheeling and
Gallipolis. What was more, I recognized the greater width of the river
bottoms, which were now flooded to the higher levels, the many islands
which divided the current, and the lowness of the densely wooded hills.

But having, as I felt sure, something over an hour to wait before
sighting Mr. Blennerhasset's well-known island, I made my toilet, and
leaving Don Pedro at the steer-oar, indulged myself in the great
pleasure of sitting down at table with the senorita. Either because of
her determination to live up to the customs of the country, or owing to
my watch in the rain,--which any riverman would have taken as a matter
of course,--she was most friendly and gracious in her manner, greeting
me with a smile and giving me her hand to salute. Not content with this,
she saw to it that Chita served me with particular attention, and