the bottom would not admit water to our precious cargoes. We had
placed no limit on their cost, only insisting that they should be of
materials and workmanship of the very best, and strictly in accordance
with our specifications. In every respect but one they pleased us.
Imagine our consternation when we discovered that the hatch covers
were anything but water-tight, though we had insisted more upon this,
perhaps, than upon any other detail. Loose boards, with cross-pieces,
fastened with little thumbscrews--there they were, ready to admit the
water at the very first upset.

There was nothing to be done. It was too late to rebuild the hatches
even if we had had the proper material. Owing to the stage of water it
was imperative that we should start at once. Bad as it would be to
have water in our cargo, it would be worse to have too little water in
the rock-obstructed channels of Red Canyon, or in the "flats" at
Brown's Park for instance.

Certainly the boats acted so beautifully in the water that we could
almost overlook the defective hatches. Emery rowed upstream for a
hundred yards, against a stiff current, and came back jubilant.

"They're great--simply great!" he exclaimed.

We had one real cause for worry, for actual anxiety, though; and as
each hour brought us nearer to the time of departure, we grew more and
more desperate. What about our third man?

We were convinced that a third man was needed; if not for the duties
of camp making, helping with the cooking and portaging; at least, for
turning the crank of the motion-picture camera. Emery and I could not