Friday, Nov. 13, 1903.--This thing grows monotonous. Yesterday we set out and got to Browning, a mile, when the wind blew us ashore against a ferry boat that was moored there, and just then the engine refused to work. We remained there all day. The wind was pitiless, driving us against the boat till we feared the cable would break. We got the anchor into the skiff and carried it out to windward as far as the cable reached, and then drew in till there were five feet between the ferryboat and ours. In half an hour the anchor, firmly embedded in tenacious clay, had dragged us back to the boat and we had again to draw in cable by bracing against the ferry. At 2 p. m. the wind had subsided, and after working with the engine till 4 we got off, and drew down a mile beyond the turn, where we would be sheltered. We moored with the anchor out up stream, and a cable fast ashore at the other end, lying with broadside up stream to the current, and a fender out to the shore. This fender is made of two two-by-fours set on edge and cross pieces let in near each end. The boat end is tied to the side and the shore end rams down into the mud. While at dinner the _Bald Eagle_ came up, but we hardly noticed her wash. Moored thus, far enough out to avoid snags, we are safe and comfortable. But if too close in shore there may be a submerged snag that when the boat is lifted on a wave and let down upon it punches a hole in the bottom or loosens a plank. The night was quiet. We had our first duck supper, the boys getting a brace and a hunter at the fish house giving us two more. They had hundreds of them, four men having had good shooting on the Sangamon. This morning it is cool and cloudy, the wind aft and light, and the boys are coaxing the engine. If we can get a tow we will take it, as there is some danger we may be frozen in if we delay much longer. * * * * * Saturday, Nov. 14, 1903.--Despite the hoodoo of yesterday, Friday the 13th, we got safely to Beardstown before lunch, in a drizzle of rain that turned to a light snow. Temperature all day about 35. After lunch we started down and passed La Grange about 4:30 p. m. Probably this was a town in the days when the river was the great highway, but stranded when the railways replaced the waterways. There is a very large frame building at the landing, evidently once a tavern, and what looks like an old street, with no houses on it now. The tavern is propped up to keep it from falling down. No postoffice. We tied up about a mile above the La Grange lock, so that we may be ready to go through at 8 a. m. We hear that the locks are only opened to small fry like gasolines at 8 a. m. and 4 p. m., and it behooves us to be there at one of those hours. Just why a distinction should be made between steamers and gasolines is for officialdom to tell. * * * * *