290 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



" 'My journals — save them first!' I shouted to the 

 two boys, and now remembered with horror, how, this 

 very morning, on account of portaging, I had for the 

 first time put all three journals in the hand-bag that 

 had disappeared, whereas the telescope that used to 

 hold two of them, was floating high. It is the emer- 

 gency that proves your man, and I learned that day 

 I had three of the best men that ever boarded a boat. 

 A glance showed Preble in shallow water coolly haul- 

 ing in the canoe. 



"Rob and Billy bounded along the rugged shores, 

 from one ice-covered rock to another, over piles of 

 drift logs and along steep ledges they went; like two 

 mountain goats; the flood was spotted with floating 

 things, but no sign of the precious journal-bag. Away 

 out was the grub-box; square and high afloat, it struck 

 a reef. 'You save the grub,' yelled Billy above the 

 roaring, pitiless flood, and dashed on. I knew Billy's 

 head was cool and clear, so I plunged into the water, 

 ice-cold and waist deep — and before the merciless one 

 could snatch it along, I had the grub-box safe. Mean- 

 while Rob and Billy had danced away out of sight 

 along that wild canyon bank. I set out after them. In 

 some eddies various articles were afloat, a cocoa tin, 

 a milk pot, a bag of rare orchids intended for a friend, 

 a half sack of flour, and many little things I saved at 

 cost of a fresh wetting each time, and on the bank, 

 thrown hastily up by the boys, were such bundles as 

 they had been able to rescue. 



"I struggled on, but the pace was killing. They 

 were young men and dog-runners; I was left behind 



