EARLY RIVER DAYS 27 



from floating rafts that would land above our yard so 

 we could pick out the cribs and strings that had the 

 kinds of lumber we wanted for our trade. 



While this work of selection was going on, the pilot 

 usually stayed at our house. I spent much of my time 

 on the raft with the crew, and was always glad to be 

 invited to sit up to the table with them at meal-time; 

 not because the food was better or even as good as we 

 had at home, but it was different, quite different. 



I was greatly interested in the talk of the crew, espe- 

 cially in their arguments. I asked many questions about 

 the Wisconsin river, the Dalles, Little Bull Falls, and 

 other features I had heard so much about. Some of the 

 information they gave me was correct perhaps; at any 

 rate it was colored up enough to create a strong desire 

 to see that wonderful river. For over forty years I have 

 been planning a voyage in an old-fashioned raft-skiff, 

 from Stevens Point to its mouth. I have crossed the 

 river many times, on the railway bridge, near its mouth, 

 but never rode a mile on its surface. 



IVIy favorite pilot was Joe Blow, an old Frenchman 

 of Stevens Point, of whom we bought lumber every 

 year. He was intelligent above the average, and had 

 such a delightful Canadian-French dialect and such 

 agreeable manners that no matter how late he stayed 

 up and talked, Mother could not drive us children to 

 bed until Captain Blow went upstairs. 



He owned the raft or an interest in it, and did his 

 own piloting down the Wisconsin to the Mississippi, 

 and down the Mississippi to Saint Louis, including both 

 the Upper and Lower rapids. His crew were nearly all 

 "Canucks" like himself, and they treated him with 

 marked respect. 



The Mississippi has an average current of two and a 



