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As they rode along Bob ignored Jerry’s evident irritation, knowing that it was caused by his forced presence. He talked about a thousand things. Jerry tried to answer in a light and casual manner but he made a rather bad attempt at it. “Far out against the sky,” repeated Grandmother, staring with her sightless eyes. Then she sat down to rest, with her hands folded under her apron and her face still turned seaward, while Tellef and Johnny Blossom played about in the heather. “Please, Mr. Whitney, won’t you tell me something about the Reclamation Service? Although I have read what I could, I know very little about the real spirit of it, only just figures showing what it’s done or is going to do.”.
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Bob was amazed. It looked to be only about a mile away. Jerry must be mistaken. But Jerry was right. Although they had covered a great deal of distance, when it came time to camp for the night the cleft in the mountain seemed as far away as when Bob had first sighted it. Two days later, however, they did reach it. And it was not until the river had swirled them through this giant gateway that they encountered any rapid water. They began to think that the passage of the Labyrinth had been overestimated. Pshaw! At Tellef’s they had eaten all the apples immediately on Tellef’s arrival with them. “The next time we get to a shallow spot, Jerry,” he ordered between strokes, “take hold of the painter and jump out. We must bring the bow up stream.” “Oh, they’re dry,” said Johnny, feeling of the clothes. “They’re as dry as tinder.”.
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