BRIGHT AGAIN 297 



the canoe into the rapid and held on while he fished 

 above the ledge. 



"I tink I feel 'em," said Rob, again and again, but 

 could not bring them up. Then Billy tried. 



"Yes, they are there." But the current was too 

 fierce and the hook too poor; he could not hold 

 them. 



Then I said: "There is only one thing to do. A 

 man must go in at the end of the rope; maybe he can 

 reach down. I'll never send any man into such a 

 place, but I'll go myself." 



So I stripped, padded the track-line with a towel and 

 put it around my waist, then plunged in. Ouch! it 

 was cold, and going seven miles an hour. The boys 

 lowered me to the spot where I was supposed to dive or 

 reach down. It was only five feet deep, but, struggle 

 as I might, I could not get even my arm down. I 

 ducked and dived, but I was held in the surface like 

 a pennant on an air-blast. In a few minutes the icy 

 flood had robbed me of all sensation in my limbs, and 

 showed how impossible was the plan, so I gave the 

 signal to haul me in; which they did, nearly cutting 

 my body in two with the rope. And if ever there was 

 a grovelling fire-worshipper, it was my frozen self 

 when I landed. 



Now we tried a new scheme. A tall spruce on the 

 shore was leaning over the place; fifty feet out, barely 

 showing, was the rock that wrecked us. We cut the 

 spruce so it fell with its butt on the shore, and lodged 

 against the rock. On this, now, Rob and Billy walked 

 out and took turns grappling. Luck was with Rob. 



