III. 



RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 



•• "\ T OW for the rapids," said John, as our boat 

 ■^ ^ left the tranqviil waters of the lake, and, 

 sweeping around a huge shelving ledge, shot into 

 the narrow channel, where the Waters, converged 

 from either shore, were gathering themselves for 

 the foam and thunder below. 



The rapids were three miles in length, — one 

 stretch of madly rushing water, save where, at the 

 foot of some long flight or perpendicular fall, a 

 pool lay, specked with bubbles, and flecked with 

 patches of froth. The river is paved with rocks, 

 and full of boulders, amid which the water glides 

 smooth and deep, or dashes with headlong vio- 

 lence against them. And ever and anon, at the 

 head of some steep declivity, gathering itself for 

 flight, downward it shoots with arrowy swiftness, 

 until, bursting over a fall, it buries itself in the 

 pool beneath. 



At the head of such a stretch of water, whose 

 roar and murmur filled the air, we ran our boats 

 ashore. Never until this season had these rapids 

 been run, even by the guides ; and now, untried, 



