166 . ADVENTUEES IN THE WILDEENESS. 



quivering like a frightened fish, the shell, driven by 

 what seemed to be more than mortal strength, with 

 a mighty leap, sprang out into the air. So nicely 

 had long custom taught us to balance it, that, keep- 

 ing the inclination given it by the current, it clove 

 through the cloud of rising mist, passing clean out 

 of it before we touched the water ; for even as we 

 hung above the abyss, I saw the deadly line was 

 passed and we were saved. The boat, keeping the 

 angle of declination, struck the water, and went 

 under like a pointed stake hurled from the hand, 

 and John and I were left struggling in the current. 



We swam to the edge of the deep pool, and, 

 climbing upon the sloping ledge, lay for a brief 

 time motionless, and, side by side in the deep 

 shadow of the pines, our faces prone on our crossed 

 arms, iilled with the sweet sense of life delivered, 

 and with emotions known only to Him with 

 whom, with the roar of the falls, out of whose hell 

 of waters we had been snatched, rising around us, 

 we held communion. 



At the lower end of the pool we found our boat 

 drifted ashore and John's broken paddle beside it. 

 Shouldering the shell, and striking eastward, we 

 soon came to the carry, traversing which we quickly 

 reached the lake, and launching out upon it, in five 

 minutes stood where the opening sentences of our 

 story found us wringing our clothes beside our 

 rekindled camp-fire. And there, reader, we will 



