"Now, give us the slow stroke, Dave!" Dick called.

Soon the others caught the trick of paddling in unison. Each
had his own side of the craft on which to paddle. Dick, alone,
as steersman, paddled on either side at will, according as he
wished to guide the boat.

"You're doing finely," called Hiram Driggs.

"Let's hit up the speed a bit," urged Dan Dalzell.

"We won't be in too big a hurry about that," Dick counseled.
"Let us get the knack of this thing by degrees."

"Whee! When we do get to going fast I'll wager there is a lot
of fine old speed in this birch-bark tub!" chuckled Tom Reade.

Dick now headed the canoe up the river. For half a mile or more
they glided along on a nearly straight course.

To say that these Gridley high school boys were happy would be
putting it rather mildly. There was exhilaration in every move
of this noble sport. Nor was it at all like work. The canoe
seemed to require but very little power to send her skimming over
the water.

At last Dick guided the canoe in an easy, graceful turn, heading
down the river once more.

"Now, you can try just a little faster stroke, Dave," Dick suggested.