The other sleeper was a short, stout man whom Joe had seen several times before.  This last fellow did not appear to be well-balanced in his mind, and was the butt of the settlers’ jokes, while the children called him “Loorey.”  He, like the Indian, was sleeping off the effects of the previous night’s dissipation.

During a few moments Joe regarded the recumbent figures with an expression on his face which told that he thought in them were great possibilities for sport.  With one quick glance around he disappeared within the cabin, and when he showed himself at the door, surveying the village square with mirthful eyes, he held in his hand a small basket of Indian design.  It was made of twisted grass, and simply contained several bits of soft, chalky stone such as the Indians used for painting, which collection Joe had discovered among the fur-trader’s wares.

He glanced around once more, and saw that all those in sight were busy with their work.  He gave the short man a push, and chuckled when there was no response other than a lazy grunt.  Joe took the Indians’ gaudy shirt, and, lifting Loorey, slipped it around him, shoved the latter’s arms through the sleeves, and buttoned it in front.  He streaked the round face with red and white paint, and then, dexterously extracting the eagle plume from the Indian’s head-dress, stuck it in Loorey’s thick shock of hair.  It was all done in a moment, after which Joe replaced the basket, and went down to the river.

Several times that morning he had visited the rude wharf where Jeff Lynn, the grizzled old frontiersman, busied himself with preparations for the raft-journey down the Ohio.  Lynn had been employed to guide the missionary’s party to Fort Henry, and, as the brothers had acquainted him with their intention of accompanying the travelers, he had constructed a raft for them and their horses.

Joe laughed when he saw the dozen two-foot logs fastened together, upon which a rude shack had been erected for shelter.  This slight protection from sun and storm was all the brothers would have on their long journey.

Joe noted, however, that the larger raft had been prepared with some thought for the comfort of the girls.  The floor of the little hut was raised so that the waves which broke over the logs could not reach it.  Taking a peep into the structure, Joe was pleased to see that Nell and Kate would be comfortable, even during a storm.  A buffalo robe and two red blankets gave to the interior a cozy, warm look.  He observed that some of the girls’ luggage was already on board.

“When’ll we be off?” he inquired.

“Sun-up,” answered Lynn, briefly.

“I’m glad of that.  I like to be on the go in the early morning,” said Joe, cheerfully.

“Most folks from over Eastways ain’t in a hurry to tackle the river,” replied Lynn, eyeing Joe sharply.

“It’s a beautiful river, and I’d like to sail on it from here to where it ends, and then come back to go again,” Joe replied, warmly.