added, a little later, "and
that is the current along the rock faces. Just above is what Clark
called 'The Deavels race ground'--a half mile that will try your motors,
Rob. The big keel boat got in all sorts of trouble that day, whirling
around, getting on bars, breaking her line and all that. The expedition
came near getting into grief--men had to go overboard and steady her,
and they were swimming, poling, rowing, and tracking all that day."

Indeed, the great river seemed disposed to show the young travelers that
her prowess had not diminished. They had a hard fight that day in more
than one fast chute, and twice dragged the propellers on bars which they
did not see at all. Uncle Dick used the oars three or four hours that
day, and Jesse, the boatman, spread his foresail to gain such added
power as was possible. In this way they made very good time, so that by
late evening they reached the mouth of the Gasconade, which comes in
from the left from the hill country. They got a good camp near the
mouth, with abundance of wood. Jesse was so lucky as to take two fine
wall-eyed pike, here called jack salmon, on his set line, as well as two
catfish. They let the latter go, as they had enough for the day, the
wall-eyes proving excellent.

"Now we're beginning to get into deer!" said Rob. "Here George Shannon
killed a deer, and Reuben Fields got one the next day. And all the time,
as you no doubt remember, we've been meeting canoes coming down from
the Omahas and Osages and Pawnees and Kansas, loaded down with furs!"

"I remember perfectly," asserted John, solemnly. "I can see them going
by right now! Pretty soon we pick up old man Dorion, coming down from
the Sioux, and hire him to go back as an interpreter for us."

"Could catch a lot of catfish and 'jurk' the meat, the way Captain Clark
did venison," said Jesse, at length.

According to their usual custom when on the trail, they were off by
sunup, the exhaust of the double motors making the wooded shore echo
again. They made their third encampment at the mouth of a stream which
they took to be that called Good Woman River in the _Journal_--a name no
longer known on their map.

"Whew!" complained Uncle Dick, as he got out and stretched his legs.
"This is cramping me as bad as the trenches in the Argonne. You
fellows'll 'do me in,' as the British used to say, if I don't look out!
How far do you think we've come in the three days, Rob?"

"Let's see. I figure about one