Nothing, however, occurred to molest them on their voyage.  They passed pleasantly through magnificent and lonely scenes, until they came to where Pollopol’s Island lay, like a floating bower, at the extremity of the highlands.  Here they landed, until the heat of the day should abate, or a breeze spring up, that might supersede the labour of the oar.  Some prepared the mid-day meal, while others reposed under the shade of the trees in luxurious summer indolence, looking drowsily forth upon the beauty of the scene.  On the one side were the highlands, vast and cragged, feathered to the top with forests, and throwing their shadows on the glassy water that dimpled at their feet.  On the other side was a wide expanse of the river, like a broad lake, with long sunny reaches, and green headlands; and the distant line of Shawungunk mountains waving along a clear horizon, or checkered by a fleecy cloud.

But I forbear to dwell on the particulars of their cruise along the river; this vagrant, amphibious life, careering across silver sheets of water; coasting wild woodland shores; banqueting on shady promontories, with the spreading tree overhead, the river curling its light foam to one’s feet, and distant mountain, and rock, and tree, and snowy cloud, and deep-blue sky, all mingling in summer beauty before one; all this, though never cloying in the enjoyment, would be but tedious in narration.

When encamped by the water-side, some of the party would go into the woods and hunt; others would fish:  sometimes they would amuse themselves by shooting at a mark, by leaping, by running, by wrestling; and Dolph gained great favour in the eyes of Antony Vander Heyden, by his skill and adroitness in all these exercises; which the Heer considered as the highest of manly accomplishments.

Thus did they coast jollily on, choosing only the pleasant hours for voyaging; sometimes in the cool morning dawn, sometimes in the sober evening twilight, and sometimes when the moonshine spangled the crisp curling waves that whispered along the sides of their little bark.  Never had Dolph felt so completely in his element; never had he met with any thing so completely to his taste as this wild, hap-hazard life.  He was the very man to second Antony Vander Heyden in his rambling humours, and gained continually on his affections.  The heart of the old bushwhacker yearned toward the young man, who seemed thus growing up in his own likeness; and as they approached to the end of their voyage, he could not help inquiring a little into his history.  Dolph frankly told him his course of life, his severe medical studies, his little proficiency, and his very dubious prospects.  The Heer was shocked to find that such amazing talents and accomplishments were to be cramped and buried under a doctor’s wig.  He had a sovereign contempt for the healing art, having never had any other physician than the butcher.  He bore a mortal grudge to all kinds of study also, ever since he had