to the middle log.

He had hollowed it to the shape of the log so that it fitted to it and
made it as much like a boat keel as possible. It was pretty well water
soaked and half as heavy as iron.

"How are you ever going to launch this craft?" I inquired. "She will be
sure to weigh a ton."

"We will come to that in a couple of days," replied Jim.

The crucial time came and we went to work to get the raft into the
stream. We were aided by the fact that it had been purposely put
together near a steep slope into the river.

By means of the leverage of long poles and blocks we raised it up, and
with smaller logs placed underneath we rolled it down into the stream.

"Hurrah!" yelled Jim. "She floats like a duck."

It was a jubilant moment for us. We had worked hard and carefully, and
it was worth while.

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.

"Yes and the cabin," put in Jim. "Of course," he said, smiting his
chest, "the commodore must have a cabin and we want a place where we can
store things and keep them dry."

"She will look like quite a boat," said Tom. "I suppose you will want to
rig up a sail, too?"

"Never mind about the sail now, Tom," said our new commodore with
dignity. "You landlubbers can go ashore, I'm going to sleep abroad."

Tom and I decided that we preferred to be on _terra firma_ as we were
more used to it, so we slept in camp, leaving Jim on his beloved yacht.