60 THE BOATMAN'S STORY. 



seem to be drowned, or smashed to pieces agin the rocks. 

 But right down the rapids we went, swifter than an eagle in 

 his stoop, down over the boilin' eddies, down over the foam- 

 in' surge, down the perpendicular falls, as if the old Nick 

 himself was kickin' us on end. How we got down I won't 

 undertake to say, but when I got breath and looked out 

 over the side of the boat I saw the old woods and rocks 

 along the shore below the falls, rushin' up stream like a race- 

 horse. * 



" Wai, we entered Round Lake, crossed it in five minutes, 

 and down the river we rushed over the little falls at a bound, 

 and into the Lower Saranac. I'd got a little used to it by 

 this time, and though it was mighty hard work to catch my 

 breath in such a wind as we made by our flight, yet I ma- 

 naged to sit up and look around me. It was curious to see 

 how the islands on the Lower Saranac danced about, and 

 how -the shores ran away behind while I was looking at 

 'em ; and how the forest trees dodged, and whirled, and 

 jumped about one another, as we tore along. After tearin' 

 about the lake a spell, we came to something like a halt, 

 and old Mossyback stuck his head out of water, and openin' 

 his great glassy eyes like the moon in a mist, ' How do you 

 like that ?' said he, in a jeerin' sort of way. ' All right,' 

 said I ; ' go it while you're young.' I didn't care about 

 appearin' skeered or uneasy, but I'd have given a couple of 

 month's wages just then, to have been on dry land. ' Well,' 

 said he, ' I guess we'll be gittin' towards home.' And away 

 he started for the Upper Saranac, and up the river, across 



