One of them said it wasn't the length of the river that bothered them so much as the breadth.

They worked independently of each other, and it was pretty hard to tell which was the bow and which the stern of the boat.

A ragged urchin rowed out from shore to see what they were doing and sarcastically inquired if they were rowing over stumps.

That was an unkind allusion to the extreme height at which they elevated their oar blades from the water between strokes.

There was no revolver or shot gun in the party, or there would have been a funeral in that lad's family.
Row boats would pull out from shore all along, and the questions asked by the parties pulling them were ridiculous, and painfully monotonous.