There was a sack of corn-meal in the "shanty," and a jug of maple syrup.

A dish of hot mush would be the very thing.
Then there was coffee already ground; of course he would have a cup of coffee.

So the boy made a roaring fire, found the coffee-pot, set it on the stove, and filled a large saucepan with corn-meal.
"There may be a little too much in there," he thought; "but I can save what I can't eat now for lunch, and then fry it, as mother does." Having got thus far in his preparations, he took a bucket and went outside for some water from the river.

Here he remained for a few minutes to gaze at a distant up-bound steamboat, and wondered why he had not noticed her when she passed the raft.

Although the river seemed somewhat narrower than he thought it should be, he had no idea but that he was still in its main channel, and that the land on his left was the Wisconsin shore.
Still wondering how he could have missed seeing, or at least hearing, the steamboat, the boy reentered the "shanty." Thinking of steamboats rather than of cooking, he began to pour water into the saucepan of meal, which at once began to run over.