Part 16 (1/2)

”Well?” said Harvey, ”got enough?”

”No,” replied Henry Burns, and added deliberately, with a twinkle in his eyes, ”we might as well do it, now we've started. We've got two days to get up over there in, you know.”

”Good for you!” exclaimed Harvey. ”Come on, if you're ready. We've got time yet before Tom and Bob make the carry.”

They bent to the paddles and got once more to the sunken ledge, panting and perspiring, for they had worked hard and the current seemed, therefore, even swifter now than before. There, holding their canoe in place, they waited a little longer than on the first attempt, to rest and study the current.

”Let's try the right hand from the ledge this time,” said Henry Burns.

”Those whirls mean shallow places. Perhaps the bottom isn't so slippery.”

He pointed at some almost imperceptible breaks in the ebony surface of the slope, and Harvey agreed.

”I can shove this canoe up over there as sure as you're alive,” said Harvey, gazing proudly at a pair of muscular arms that were certainly eloquent of strength; ”that is, if you can keep her head straight. Don't try to do much of the poling. Just try to hold what I gain each time, till I can get a fresh hold. What do you say--rested enough?”

”Aye, aye, captain,” replied Henry Burns, coolly. ”Up we go.”

Again the canoe dropped back a little from the ledge, and again they caught and held it and shoved out into the current--this time on the right, instead of the left side.

Their comrades ash.o.r.e watched anxiously. They saw the canoe strike the swift running of the water and hang for a moment, as if irresolute, uncertain whether it would turn its bow upstream or be swerved broadside. The moment it hung there seemed minutes in duration. They saw Henry Burns, lithe and agile, but cool and self-possessed, strike his pole into the slope of the water where he had seen a shallow spot. And the pole held.

The watchers ash.o.r.e saw the canoe slowly turn and face the swift current, lying upon its polished slope as though upon a sheet of gla.s.s.

They saw Harvey in the stern set his pole and shove mightily, his muscles knotted and his face drawn and grim with determination. They saw the canoe slowly gain against the current.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”THE WATCHERS ASh.o.r.e SAW THE CANOE SLOWLY TURN AND FACE THE SWIFT CURRENT.”]

At the edge of the slope it stood still for what seemed an age. They saw the two in bow and stern struggle desperately again and again to wrest their craft from the clutch of the current. Then, almost with a leap, freed from the fierce resistance of the rapids, the canoe slid over the brink of the incline, into the deeper part of the stream above.

A moment later, they saw the poles dropped and the paddles s.n.a.t.c.hed up.

The canoe shot swiftly ahead, propelled by triumphant arms. The rapids were conquered. Henry Burns and Harvey had won their hard fight.

In vain had Tom and Bob, hurrying recklessly, b.u.mping their canoe along the rough sh.o.r.e, essayed to complete the carry before it would be too late. To their chagrin and dismay, the sound of a horn blown three times with a vigour announced to them the triumph of their comrades. Sadly they shouldered their canoe, which they had set down at the first blast of the horn, and turned their faces back along the trail, toward the foot of the rapids.

Likewise, the Warren boys, accepting the inevitable, turned back and prepared to attempt the difficult feat which they had seen accomplished.

At all events, they were, by reason of their position in the rear of Tom and Bob, in possession of that much advantage over the more skilled canoeists.

”Whew! but that was a tough one,” exclaimed Harvey, dipping his paddle leisurely, and recovering his breath. ”Say, look at poor old Tom and Bob--the champion canoeists. Bet they feel sore.”

Henry Burns turned, looked back and smiled. Then, gazing up stream again, he said, ”Yes, but look there.”

At a bend of the stream, fully a half mile ahead, the first canoe was gliding easily along.

Harvey groaned. ”And they'd be back there, too,” he exclaimed, ”if we hadn't made that slip. Never mind, there's another day coming.”

It seemed a long, long time, and they, themselves, had reached a point fully a half mile above the rapids, before they espied first one canoe and then another achieving the incline. They could not discern which was in the lead, but it proved later to be the canoe handled by Tom and Bob, the Warrens having made two failures before succeeding, giving time to the others to come up and pa.s.s them. They were about abreast now, coming along slowly.

It was smooth paddling now, along the sh.o.r.es of green meadows and pasture land, until noon arrived. Then, at the signal of four blasts of the horn, by Harvey, answered in turn by all the others above and below, the canoes were drawn out on sh.o.r.e and luncheon was eaten. They built no fires, but ate what they had brought, cold. With an hour to rest in, the leaders strolled back to where Harvey and Henry Burns were, and chaffed them good-naturedly on their failure to make them take the rapids, and over their own strong lead. To which, Harvey and Henry Burns, being good sportsmen, replied good-humouredly, a.s.suring the Ellisons they should beat them on ”the next hard place.”

The other canoeists remained where they were, and ate their luncheons together.