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RECREATION/ 



went gliding along in the twilight fog, like 

 a specter craft. The passage of the chute 

 was glorious, for the swift, birdlike motion 

 exhilarates one like wine. Once outside 

 the chute we found ourselves in a maze of 

 rocks and swirls and treacherous currents 

 that gave us small leisure to watch the 

 Juniata that just there joins the Susque- 

 hanna, or to note the smoky forges of Dun- 

 cannon. Avoiding Hen and Chickens, and 

 sweeping past the ruined piers at Dauphin, 

 we shot through a narrow arch of the stone 

 bridge at Rockville. Past Rockville wer^ 

 Harrisburg, Steelton, Highspire and the 

 White House. There again we snubbed, 

 for below us lay the falls of Conewago, de- 

 manding a special pilot. He soon came 

 aboard, but for 3 whole days we lay there, 

 as he dared not run the falls in the high 

 wind. 



On the morning of the fourth day, how- 

 ever, there came a lull in the wind. While 

 the stars were yet shining and the mist lay 

 heavy on the river we cast loose, for old 

 Gus had said we must strike the rapids by 

 sunrise. Huddling about the fire, we were 

 munching our bread and ham and gratefully 

 drinking coffee, when a bend in the river 

 brought us in sight of the rapids. Just as 

 we swung into them the sun shot up over 

 the Eastern mountains, and broke through 

 the tapestry of silver and blue that covered 

 the sky. 



All along the island we skirted the shore, 

 gliding under trees and barelv missing the 

 rocks. With every foot the waters became 

 wilder, and the roar increased ; with every 

 moment our hearts beat faster. Swinging 

 past the lower end of the island, we came 

 suddenly to the great falls. There were 

 crests and hollows;, there was blinding 



spray and a deafening roar and we were 

 about to plunge into it. There were angry 

 rocks to dispute our passage and the slip 

 of an oar might mean ruin. Before we 

 could think of these things we were in the 

 heaving waters. 



The forward oars were both tied down 

 and all hands came aft save the pilot, 

 whose aged frame was bent forward, his 

 white hair and beard glistening in the sun, 

 while with one hand he motioned to the 

 steersman. The raft groaned and creaked; 

 it waved up and down; it jumped one bil- 

 low only to drive under the next; it stag- 

 gered and shook from the force of the 

 waters ; and sometimes a great wave would 

 come sweeping over all its length. 



The pilot stood unmoved. The years 

 were dropping from his shoulders ; his bent 

 frame was straightening itself, when sud- 

 denly his oar came untied and dropped into 

 the foam. A second, the wink of an eye, 

 would have wrenched it loose, turned us 

 broadside to the stream and perhaps sent us 

 helplessly against the next rock. But before 

 the waves could grip it, the old man had 

 bent like a flash, seized and raised it, and 

 held it down with his foot. So he stood all 

 through that long plunge. 



A few more waves, a few more shocks, 

 a few more plunges and we shot into 

 smooth water below. Looking back we 

 saw this great mountain of water through 

 which we had passed, and when we looked 

 at our watches we found the eternity of be- 

 wilderment, the hours of excitement, meas- 

 ured by 7 little minutes. 



And then came a short, peaceful run to 

 the harbor, the packing of the tent and 

 equipage and our journey was over. 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY MRS. T. F, ROBERTO. 



FEEDING ANTELOPE. 

 Winner of 29th Prize in Recreation's 8th Annual Photo Competition. 



