And yet, such was the boy’s passion for his hobby, that Will, leaving the sweep, at which he could not find room beside his chums, sprang over to his camera, and took a picture of the nearby towboat, even while expecting to hear the shock of collision the next minute. CHAPTER V—THE FIRST NIGHT AFLOAT “Hard a-port!” the pilot of the river boat was calling. Fortunately, that was just what Frank had started to do. Had his judgment been at all defective in the start, all would have been lost; for there was certainly no time to reverse, and go the other way. It was quite an exciting time. Will managed to “snap” the three boys straining at that clumsy big steering oar called the “sweep”; with the towboat apparently dead ahead. It would, doubtless, give him an odd little creep every time he looked at the picture; for of the quartette Will was more inclined to be timid than any of his chums. Of course the river boat had shut off steam, and was no longer pushing hard up against the current. Indeed, her stern wheel even began to churn the water wildly, in the endeavor to back, and thus at least lessen the blow, if one had to follow. It was the onward rush of the houseboat with the current that proved the most dangerous factor in the matter; for there was no means of staying the progress of the _Pot Luck_. Closer still they came; and Will even gripped a portion of the gunwale of the floating craft, under the impression that a collision was about due; when all of a sudden some new freak of the current seemed to seize the apparently doomed houseboat, for with a whirl the _Pot Luck_ started on a new tack. They passed so close to the side of the towboat that any one of the boys might, had they so desired, thrust out a hand, and touched the planking. Frank sighed with relief, to realize that after all their voyage was not fated to be nipped in the bud at the very start. “Hurrah!” cried Bluff; but his voice was too weak for the sound to be much louder than a hoarse croak. The pilot was shaking his fist at them from above as they swept past, and uttering hard words. Little they cared for what he said, since every boyish heart was full of thanksgiving, after the scare. Possibly they were in the wrong, since the channel seemed to be no place for a helpless houseboat likely to be met at any time by an up-river tow that would stretch from side to side. “Whew! that was a narrow escape, though!” Jerry exclaimed, as he fell back, panting for breath after his labor at the sweep. “It ought to teach us a lesson while we’re on the upper Mississippi,” Frank remarked, himself willing to rest a bit from his labors. “You don’t mean, I hope, that we ought to learn to talk back, so as to give these river pilots as good as they send?” ventured Will, now recovering from his attack of the “shakes,” and hoping none of his mates had noticed how pale he had been.