14 
THE GOLDEN RIVER. 
Mackintoshes and with their backs to the 
driving storm, our new acquaintances waved 
us goodbye; and in half an hour the mist and 
rain had swallowed us up. 
Meanwhile, in some dismay, we looked round 
upon our new domain, whilst the engines 
rattled and snorted along, and the whole boat 
shook and trembled with the vibration. 
She was about seventy feet long and the 
saloon took up twenty feet of this space. A 
leather covered seat ran all round it, and a door 
at the further end opened on to the crew’s 
quarters, the engine room, minute kitchen, and 
washing place. At the other side of the saloon 
two sliding doors led to the tiny deck at the 
bows, and the captain’s look out. The luggage 
had all been brought in, and stood about, 
dripping moisture: packing-cases of tinned 
foods were mixed up with suit cases, rugs, 
sacks of biscuits and ammunition boxes. The 
steel floor was glistening with mud, brought in 
on the porters’ feet. It was cold, it was wet. 
Everything danced and rattled with the vibra¬ 
tion of the motor engines. But at last we were 
really off, and that was all that mattered. 
The boxes were stored away under the seats, 
things hung up on pegs, wherever things could 
hang, tins were opened, and hot coffee made. 
Gazing at the old leather stuffing of the seats 
and the shabby appearance of the boat, we felt 
some apprehension: and our fears proved 
