The same day they rowed the boat a few miles up a small but deep and very clear river that emptied into the Mississippi from the east.  Their object was to fish, the greater river itself being too muddy for the succulent kind that they wished.  The incomparable “Galleon” had also been supplied with fishing tackle, and in a short time they caught a splendid supply of black bass and perch, which proved to be very fine and toothsome.  As their boat floated back from the smaller stream into the Mississippi, Shif’less Sol heaved a deep sigh.

“What’s the matter, Sol?” asked Paul.

“I wuz thinkin’ o’ Christopher Columbus,” replied Shif’less Sol.  “Ef it wuzn’t that I’d be dead now, I wish I’d been with him.  I do enjoy sailin’ on an’ discoverin’ lands an’ waters that ain’t yet got no name to ’em.  It looks funny to me that we wuzn’t discovered sooner, when we’ve always been here, but Columbus has all my respeck an’ admiration ’cause he done it when the others didn’t.”

“That shorely wuz a man,” said Tom Ross, his eyes lighting up.  “I’ve heard the tale how he kep’ tryin’ an’ tryin’ to git a ship, an’ couldn’t, an’ at last the Spanish lady pulled off her earrings an’ finger rings an’ bracelets an’ said:  ’Here, Chris, these, these are my jewels, take ’em, trade ’em fur the best ship thar is in the market, an’ discover Ameriky.’  An’ then he got his ship, an’ kep’ sailin’ on an’ on, an’ the sailors they began to git skeered an’ then more skeered.  They’re afraid they’re goin’ to drop off on the other side uv the world an’ they go to Chris an’ say:  ‘Thar ain’t no sech continent ez Ameriky an’ we ain’t goin’ to discover it.  We’re goin’ to turn right ‘round an’ go straight back to Spain.’

“Chris says in the knowin’est manner like a father talkin’ to his child.  ‘Thar is sech a continent ez Ameriky, an’ it’s a big one, too.  It’s layin’ over thar straight to the west, an’ it’s full uv big lakes an’ big rivers an’ big mountains an’ red Injuns that fight with bows an’ arrers, and b’ars an’ buffalers an’ deer an’ panthers an’ all things fine, jest waitin’ fur us.  Thar’s whar we’re goin’.’  And the sailors say more uppish than ever:  No, we ain’t, we ain’t goin’ to discover Ameriky, thar ain’t no sech place, we’re goin’ right back to Spain.’  Then a kinder funny look comes into Chris’s eye.  He reaches fur his long rifle, an’ he draws a bead on the foremost uv them sailors, the feller that speaks fur ’em all, an’ he says, droppin’ that fatherly manner an’ speakin’ up sharp an’ snappy:  ‘I reckin we’re either goin’ to discover Ameriky, or go right back to Spain, which is it?’

“An’ that foremost sailor, the one that speaks fur ’em all, sees the funny look in Chris’s eye, an’ he thinks, too, he kin see clean down the barrel uv that long rifle to whar the bullet is layin’, an’ he answers right off:  ‘We’re goin’ to discover Ameriky’; an’ shore enough they did, this fine, big continent, full uv big lakes an’ big rivers an’ big mountains an’ red Injuns that fight with bows an’ arrers an’ b’ars and buffalers an’ deer an’ panthers an’ all things fine.”