PHANTOM FALLS. 165 



The moon made eveiytliing almost as discernible 

 as in the day. He took the paddle, understanding 

 my thought, looking straight at me. Upon his 

 face was an expression, plain as speech might make 

 it, which said, " All that man can do, Mr Murray, 

 all tliat man can do." Then he passed the blade 

 into the water. I saw him take two strokes, steady 

 and quick, then turned. Down, down we went. 

 0, how we shot along that tremulous plain of quiv- 

 ering water ! I felt the shell tremble and spring 

 as John drove it ahead. A joy I cannot express 

 thrilled me as I felt the boat jump. Hope rose 

 with every nervous stroke of that paddle, as it sent 

 us flying toward the verge. No matter how we 

 struck, provided our projection carried us beyond 

 the deadly line of bubbles and the suction inward. 

 I held my breath, seizing the rim of the boat on 

 each side with either hand, and crouched low down 

 for the leap. The motion was frightful. My face 

 seemed to contract and sharpen under the pressure 

 of the air as I clove throuoh it. How John could 

 keep his stroke, rushing down such a decline, was 

 and will ever be to me a matter of increasing won- 

 der. Yet, quick and smiting as his stroke was, it 

 was as regular as the movement of a watch. Down, 

 down we glanced, straight for the middle of the 

 falls and the smooth opening along the jagged rim. 

 Lower and lower I crouched. Quicker and quicker 

 jumped the boat, until the verge was reached, and, 



