Part 15 (1/2)

To their amazement, a laughing voice hailed them most unexpectedly, from sh.o.r.e. They looked toward the bank, where, just emerging, dripping wet, the girl was waving a hand to them.

”How was that for a dive?” she called, pus.h.i.+ng her wet hair back from her eyes, and looking at them roguishly.

”Bully!” exclaimed George Warren, wiping the drops of perspiration from his forehead. ”We thought you had fallen. My, but it gave me a scare.”

The girl's eyes danced with merriment. Then espying the other canoe coming up, she called, ”h.e.l.lo, you back again? Look out Ellison don't catch you.”

”It's Bess Thornton,” said Henry Burns, and the two boys called out a greeting to her.

”Say, do you know Tim Reardon?” she asked abruptly.

”Why, yes,” answered Henry Burns. ”Should say we did.”

”Well,” said Bess Thornton, ”tell him you saw me dive from the tree, will you? He didn't think I dared, when I told him.” Then she added, laughing, ”Don't get rained on again. But if you do, remember the mill.”

And she danced away, wringing the water from the hem of her short skirt.

”Confound her!” exclaimed Harvey. ”Look at the start Jim and John have got. Come on, Henry.”

They pushed on again, Tom and Bob soon taking the lead of the three rear canoes, with a strong steady stroke that meant business. The first canoe was by this time a quarter of a mile ahead.

CHAPTER VIII

CONQUERING THE RAPIDS

This part of the stream, for some two miles above the Ellison dam, was deep, still water, lying between quite steep banks, and there was little perceptible current. So that now, the water being unruffled by any wind, the four canoes shot ahead at good speed, retaining generally their relative positions.

Tom and Bob gradually quickened their stroke, hoping to make some slight but sure gain on the leaders; but the Ellison brothers were evidently of a mind to hold their lead as long as possible, and continued to do so.

This, however, was at the cost of some extra exertion, which might tell in the long run.

In the course of half an hour, after leaving the dam, the current began to flow faster against them; now and then it came down over shoals of quite an incline, so that they made better headway by getting out their setting-poles and using them, instead of the paddles.

Then, at a point a mile farther up stream, they came to rapids of some considerable extent, flowing quite swiftly and boiling here and there around sunken rocks. The Ellison brothers had avoided this place, and were to be seen now, on the right bank of the sh.o.r.e, carrying their canoe with difficulty.

The sh.o.r.e here was broken up by the out-cropping of ledges, amid the breaks of which a canoe must be carried with great care, as a false step would mean a bad fall and perhaps the smas.h.i.+ng of the canoe. The only other alternative, besides the water, was to make a long detour through the off-lying fields, with loss of time.

Tom and Bob guided their craft swiftly in to land and proceeded to drag it ash.o.r.e, as the Ellison boys had done. The Warren brothers followed, and Jack Harvey was turning his canoe in the same direction when a word from his companion caused him to cease paddling.

”Jack,” said Henry Burns, ”I think we could make the rapids. What do you say? If we win out, we may be in time to call the Ellison fellows back.”

It was a rule of the race that, if a canoe succeeded in ascending any difficult place in the stream, the successful pair was ent.i.tled to call back any of the other canoes that were still carrying around the place, and make them do likewise. If, however, any of the canoeists had made the carry completely, and had launched their craft above, they could not be called back.

The Ellison brothers were about half way up the carry at this time.

”I don't think we could do it, Henry,” answered Harvey, to the other's suggestion. ”We could get part of the way up, all right, but the last few rods are too steep.”

He pointed, as he spoke, to the upper incline of the rapids, which was, indeed, much sharper than the first of the ascent, bending over from the higher level of the stream abruptly, like a sheet of rounded, polished ebony; flowing smoothly but with great swiftness; then broken here and there below with rocks, sharp and jagged, and foaming threateningly as it whirled past them.

”I think we can do it, Jack,” insisted Henry Burns, quietly. ”I remember the place. The water was a little higher when we came through in the rain; but we ran these rapids, and don't you remember, half way down that steepest part, we thought we were going to hit a sunken ledge--just to the right of the middle of the slope?”