164 ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS. 



the staff. Even as I Lent to the stroke, the sound 

 of rending wood, a crash, a quick cry, piercing 

 sharply through tlie roar of the falls, smote upon my 

 ear. No words were needed to tell me wliat liad 

 happened. John had broken his j^^^ddle ! The 

 treacherous ash had failed him even in mid-stroke. 

 I did my best. I felt that life, sweet to all at all 

 times, doubly sweet as it seemed to me then, lay in 

 the strength of my arms. I threw the last ounce 

 of power I had into that stroke. The elastic staff 

 bent under the sudden pressure like a Damascus 

 blade. It held ; but all in vain. The suction was 

 too strong. It seized John's end of the boat, 

 whirled it round, and sent it flying out into the 

 middle of the stream. It is said that men grow 

 cool in danger ; that the mind acts with su})ernatu- 

 ral quickness in moments of peril. Be that as it 

 may with others, so it was wdth me in that fearful 

 moment. / hicw that tve must go over tlic falls. I 

 felt that John must make the awful shoot. I had 

 more confidence in him than in myself As the 

 boat spun round upon the eddy, I seized advan- 

 tage of the current, and righting it, directed the bow 

 down stream. Then, calmly turning in my seat, 

 reversed my paddle, and, liolding it by the blade, 

 reached the staff to John. He took it. Never 

 shall I forget the look of John's face as his fingers 

 closed on it. No word was uttered by either of us. 

 No voice might make itself heard in that uproar. 



