Canoeing in Swift Water 



I. HANDLING THE CANOE IN UPSTREAM 

 WORK WITH A POLE 



W! 



T7ore r\r\ -f-n 



'HEN I was fourteen years old, my father, after 

 much urging, purchased for me a sixteen-foot 

 canvas-covered canoe, which I used for several 

 years on the placid water of the Charles River at Auburn- 

 dale, Mass. I had some nice corduroy-covered, curled- 

 hair cushions to put in the bottom, and I persuaded 

 nearly every young lady of my acquaintance to make a 

 fancy feather cushion to further furnish the craft. I 

 had little silk flags for the bow and stern, and by the 

 end of the first summer my canoe looked like a floating 

 advertisement for a merchant who made a speciality of 

 fitting up Turkish smoking-rooms or ladies' boudoirs. 



There was not one cushion in the lot that was a life- 

 preserver in case of accident. Floating around the 

 quiet Charles in the moonlight, listening to the band 

 concerts with similarly inclined athletes of the opposite 

 sex, was about the most strenuous exercise that I knew 

 of in connection with canoeing outside of one or two 

 canoe races in which I took part. 



There was a little " run " up-river from the Auburn- 

 dale boat-houses about seventy-five feet long, where the 

 current must have flowed at the rate of about two 

 miles per hour. When I desired to make a deep impression 

 on my canoe partner as to my prowess, I would tackle this 

 mighty run with grim determination. It used to be a 

 terrible struggle ! 



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