"They are not the sort of fellows I like to have very near me; for they are on a lark, and they have plenty of beer on board," replied the coxswain. The boat passed out of the creek into the river. The La Motte had set her mainsail, and was now hoisting the foresail. Matt gave the schooner as wide a berth as he could, but he could not get more than a hundred feet from her. "Is that you, Matt Randolph?" shouted Spickles. "I believe so," replied the coxswain. "Come on board, will you, Matt?" continue the captain of the La Motte, beckoning with his hand. "You must excuse me, Spickles. I have the charge of this barge, and I can't leave her," replied Matt, very civilly, but not less decisively. "I have to attend to my duty." "But I want to see you about the navigation of this river; for I got aground coming in, and I don't want to do it again," added the captain of the La Motte. The coxswain shifted the helm of the barge; for if there was any thing to be done that would assist in the departure of the schooner, he was willing to do it. He ran alongside of the vessel, and held the boat at a distance of about ten feet from her. "What is the trouble about the navigation, Spickles?" asked Matt, coming to business at once. "Off that point below, I found that the water was not more than two feet deep," said the captain. "And it is marked one foot on the chart; and you told me you were supplied with charts." "I am; but the river is not laid down on the chart." "You have a south-west wind; and all you have to do is to keep near the middle of the stream, and you will go out all right. Is that all?" "No, that is not all," replied Spickles, who seemed to be dissatisfied at the distance his former friend kept between them, and with his apparent desire to get off again. "The water is not more than two or three feet deep anywhere out beyond that point." "To the southward of the point, the water is shoal; but it is deep enough north of it to float an ocean-steamer anywhere. As soon as you get to that bend in the river, and open up the point, run for it. Then--have you a compass on board?" "Of course I have a compass: I brought a good one with me from New York," replied Spickles. "When you are up with Beaver Point"-- "Where is that?" interposed the captain of the La Motte, who seemed to be intent upon detaining the coxswain as long as possible. "The point at the mouth of the river. When you come up with it, make your course north-west by west, and you will be all right till you run on the shore on the other side of the lake." "I say, Matt, I want to introduce you to the members of the Nautifelers Club; and I wish you would come on board," persisted Spickles. "As I said before, I cannot, and you must excuse me. But what is the club?" asked Matt, whose curiosity was excited. "The Nautifelers Club." "Is that a Greek word?" "Of course it is." "I can't quite make it out: will you spell it for me?" asked Matt.