474 
FOREST AND STREAM 
August, 1918 
THREE TENDERFEET ON THE “JIM” RIVER 
FISHING IN THE OZARKS ON THE FAMOUS JAMES-WHITE RIVER FLOAT 
WHERE BASS ARE SO PLENTIFUL THAT THEY LITERALLY JUMP INTO THE CRAFT 
I T was a bright and sunshiny noon when 
we dropped off the train at the little 
town of Galena, Missouri, three happy 
tenderfeet, intent on making the most of 
two short weeks of vacation annually al¬ 
lowed them. Galena itself is an attractive 
little town, being about the average Mis¬ 
souri hillside village. It has perhaps five 
hundred inhabitants, most of whom, it 
seems, make their living as guides for the 
famous James River Float. 
The “Jim” River, as it is affectionately 
called by those who know its beauties, is 
one of our largest Ozark streams, the most 
important part being the James-White 
River float. This is about one hundred 
and fifty miles long, starting at Galena, on 
the James, and ending at Bransom, on the 
White, twenty miles by land from the 
starting point. The famous Meander River 
has nothing on the “Jim” when it comes 
to twists and turns. For its entire length 
it winds through the prettiest part of the 
Ozarks, emptying finally into the White 
that brings us, as mentioned, to Bransom, 
at the head waters of Lake Taneycomo. 
With scarcely a glance at the town, eager 
for their adventure, the three tenderfeet, 
duffle bags in hand, hastened toward the 
river; down, down interminable steps, it 
seems, they descended to the river bank to 
impatiently negotiate the hire of one of 
the mud scows that these Ozark humorists 
term “boats.” I said three tenderfeet, but 
two tenderfeet would be better, as Hale 
had made the trip some years before and 
it was at his insistance that we were here 
now. And it was also by his advice that 
we scorned the aid of a guide. (However, 
on due reflection, now that I have made 
the trip, I believe that three tenderfeet is 
more nearly correct!) 
The hire of these boats is fifty cents per 
day, with an additional charge of one dol¬ 
lar transportation charges back to Galena. 
The guide hire is one dollar and fifty cents 
per day and “eats,” the guide furnishing 
the rest of his equipment. 
W E dumped our duffle aboard an 
eighteen foot, flat bottomed, blunt 
nosed craft, weighing, from its 
looks, about eighteen tons (these boats, by 
the way, are built for service and not for 
beauty). The bottom is built of heavy 
inch planks to withstand the terrific shocks 
to which they are subjected and the grind¬ 
ing they undergo, in making the many rap¬ 
ids on both the “Jim” and White Rivers. 
They are practically indestructible, being 
built for just such hairbrained exploits as 
we were about to undertake. Had they not 
been so built, I probably would not be writ¬ 
ing this tale, for as I have since learned 
some of the shoals we ran tax even the 
ingenuity of experienced guides. 
Our duffle was as follows: One canoe 
tent, one sheet iron camp stove, costing 
about $3.50, said stove to be dumped in 
the river at end of trip (O shades of 
Hoover), to save crating and shipping back, 
By JAMES EUGENE STEVENS 
one blanket apiece, a folding camp cot (for 
Pard, who said that sleeping on gravel 
banks did not sound good to him), a .22 
rifle, pots and pans, bathing suits, fishing 
One of the bluffs along the river 
tackle, camera and, lastly, food supplies 
for a week. 
It was about three o’clock in the after¬ 
noon when we got away, so the first day’s 
float was short. The current, gentle here, 
bore us slowly onward, assisted somewhat 
clumsily by Hale at the stern with the 
paddle. No sooner were we out of sight 
of the village than off came our clothes 
and on went our bathing suits. We were 
not to use them just then, however, for 
around the bend came a murmur, our boat 
increased its speed, and, as we came in 
sight of the shoals ahead, I held my breath 
and a delicious shiver went up and down 
my spine! I had often read of Indians 
shooting rapids and here I was about to 
do the same thing for the first time. A 
bump, a crash, a grind, and we were onto 
them. I shut my eyes in ecstasy, and 
rather hoped for a catastrophe. However, 
besides a few more bumps, nothing hap¬ 
pened, and soon we were peacefully floating 
in the quiet pool bdow. 
Our first act here was to take a plunge, 
and, from here on to the end of our float. 
I believe we wore these suits continually, 
though later when the sunburn commenced 
to show we were compelled to slip on shirt 
and trousers to protect our tender skins. 
Indeed, Pard developed some mighty sore 
feet as the result of not taking the proper 
care to protect them from the glare of the 
sun. I think a pair of long stockings would 
be advisable for such a trip, as it would 
keep sunburn off the legs and feet and at 
the same time allow the most freedom. 
After several hours’ float we came to 
Medicine Springs, where we made camp, 
four miles from Galena. Pard and I some 
time previous had rigged up our lines and 
took several nice bass. They Were rather 
fastidious in their choice of bait, but a red 
plug on the coaxer style or a red ibis fly 
and pork bait always brought them. When 
the boat was beached Hale got out his 
tackle, saying that as he had the care of 
the boat all day it was up to us to tend to 
the rest of it. I had been elected cook; I 
had not much experience, but a lot of con¬ 
ceit, and had told the boys that I thought 
I could make it out all right, so I called 
to Pard, “You rustle the wood, start the 
fire and clean the fish while I mix up some 
biscuits.” 
“Huh,” he ejaculated, “you’re as bad as 
Hale!” However, he fell to with a will 
and, as drift wood was plentiful, had a fire 
going in our stove by the time I had got¬ 
ten out my copy of “Canoe and Camp 
Cookery” that I had brought along for just 
such a contingency. Biscuits were out of 
my line, but I had said biscuits, so biscuits 
we must have. I never knew before there 
were so many kinds of biscuits, but I 
picked out a recipe that seemed not to call 
for anything that I did not have and went 
to work. I then found that you were sup¬ 
posed to roll them out and cut them with 
a biscuit cutter. I had none of these im¬ 
plements. But the top of a flat stone did 
for a bread board; I patted them out and 
cut them with the top of the baking pow-, 
der can (I have since found that this is 
the universal household biscuit cutter). 
Then I attacked the potatoes. These were 
soon on the stove; the fish too was sizzling 
away and the coffee was made (I’d show, 
these fellows that I was some cook—any¬ 
body could do it with a good cook book 
and a little common sense!). By now the 
meal was to all appearances done. I looked 
at the biscuits, yes, they were browning 
nicely but seemed not to have raised much. 
“Mess is ready, fellows,” I called, and set 
the table on a flat rock that I had selected 
for a table. 
My, that fish smelled good! But the bis¬ 
cuits, while nicely brown, were a sickly 
yellow all the way through, and rather 
flat. I said they must have cooked too 
long. One glance and my companions lay 
on their backs and roared with laughter. 
“Well, cooky,” said Hale, while I looked 
on sheepishly, “we’ll save these biscuits, 
they might do as sinkers.” That set them 
off again, I could only look on and grin. 
I did not confess that I had been so en¬ 
grossed in cutting out the biscuits that I 
had neglected to put any baking powder in 
the dough! Our appetites remained good 
so we attacked the fish. A mouthful or 
