My Strange Rescue — Forty Miles of Maelstrom

As for Rob and Jessie, their faith was wonderfully strengthened, and often afterwards the recollection of this incident helped them to be trustful in the midst of many difficulties.

*FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM.

* The Canadian Pacific train, speeding swiftly on toward Winnipeg, had just dashed over an iron bridge which threw its audacious spider-web across a foaming torrent.

Pointing down at the tumbling water beneath, one of the men in the smoking compartment of a palace car exclaimed,-- "I'd like to try that rapid in my _Rice Lake_."

"Are you so fond of a wetting as all that?"

asked Charlie Hall with a smile.

"Oh, I'd risk the wetting.

I've been through worse rapids than that without so much as being sprinkled."

He proceeded to support his assertion by relating some of his adventures.

When Jack Fleming came to the end of his tether, the others had their say, for they had not been without experiences of a similar nature.

Meanwhile, the fourth member of the group had been listening with interested attention, as if their stories were so novel that he did not wish to lose a word of them.

He was merely a chance acquaintance, who had fallen into conversation with his fellow-travellers through the freemasonry of the pipe.

They knew his name; Ronald Cameron, but they knew nothing more about him.

It was more for the sake of saying something courteous than with any idea of drawing the stranger out that Fleming turned to him and said, "Perhaps you know something about running rapids too?"

The stranger's bronzed face broke out into a smile, which meant unmistakably, "As well ask Grant if he knew something about fighting battles;" but there was not the faintest trace of boastfulness in his tone as he replied, "I have run a few rapids in my time."

"Well, it's your turn now; tell us your experience," said Fleming, and without much urging Cameron began.

"I must explain that I am in the employ of the Hudson Bay Company, and have spent many years in the North-west districts.

My duties have required frequent long trips by York boat and bark canoe, in the course of which I have had my full share of tussles with rapids of all kinds.

I could tell you half-a-dozen rather exciting little episodes, but I'll give you only one just now, namely, my passage of the Long Canon of the Liard in a canvas boat."

"In a canvas boat?"

broke out Fleming, half incredulously.

"Yes, in a canvas boat," repeated Cameron.

"Not a particularly seaworthy craft, I must confess.

But it was a notion of my own in order to get over the difficulty in which I was placed.

I had been over in British Columbia, and was on my way back to Athabasca.

The season was growing late, and I had only two men with me--an Indian and a half-breed.

The Indian was a splendid canoe-man, but the half-breed was not of much account.

The first part of the journey could be made by boat easily enough, but for us three men to drag a heavy boat over Grizzly Portage, which is about six miles long, and has a portage-path that climbs a thousand feet up the mountain side, was quite out of the question.

"So before I started I had a boat made out of tent canvas, which would be no trouble to carry.

The wooden boat was to be left at the head of Grizzly Portage to take care of itself.

"Well, we got on smoothly until we passed the portage, and the Long Canon opened out before us.

As I looked at its wild rush of water, and realized that this was only the beginning, and far from the worst of it, I confess I felt tempted to turn back.

But my pride soon banished that thought, and I set about getting my frail craft ready for the trip.

Dennazee, the Indian, did not show the slightest concern; but Machard, the half-breed, was evidently much frightened.

"Assuming a cheery indifference I by no means felt, I went about the work in the most matter-of-fact way, and, with Dennazee helping heartily, the canvas boat was put together and set afloat.

"But it became evident immediately that she was not minded to stay afloat long.

Although I had taken the precaution to give the canvas a good coat of oil, no sooner were we on board than, the treacherous stuff leaked through every pore.

Clearly this must be remedied before we could attempt the passage.

"Bidding the men gather all the gum and balsam they could find, I put the whole of our bacon, some ten pounds at least, half-a-dozen candles, and the gum and balsam into our pot, set it over a brisk fire, and produced the most extraordinary compound you can imagine.

"With this we thickly daubed the outside of the boat from stem to stern, and then left her for the night.

The next morning she was as tight as a drum, and we started off, the poor half-breed muttering prayers in full expectation of a watery grave, the Indian as stolid as a statue, and myself much more anxious at heart than I cared to have either man know.

"The canon is about forty miles long, and in that distance the river falls quite five hundred feet.

Old Lepine, who has piloted boats up and down the Liard for thirty years or more, asserts that once, when the water was unusually high, he went through the whole length of the canon in a York boat in two hours.

The old man may be a few minutes short of the record, but there is no doubt that in the spring, when the snow is melting on the mountain slopes, the river runs at a fearful rate.

I had hoped for low water, but, as luck would have it, a sudden spell of intensely hot weather had set the snow going, and the Liard was just high enough to be a very ugly customer.

"Well, we paddled out into the current, and then there was nothing to do but steer.

I had the stern, and Dennazee the bow, while Machard clung tightly to the centre thwart, and was useful only as ballast.

Like an arrow our little boat sped down stream, darting this way and that, dipping and dancing about like a cork, doing exactly what the water willed.

"At the very first swirl I found out something that gave me an additional shiver.

This was that the boat could bear very little pressure from the paddle.

If the water pulled one way and the paddle the other, the frail thing squirmed and twisted like a snake instead of obeying the steersman, so that it was quite impossible to make her respond readily or to effect a sharp turn.

No doubt Dennazee discovered this as soon as I did, but he gave no hint of it, as with intent face and skilful arm he did his part of the work to perfection.

"The first few miles were not very bad, but we soon came to a place where whirlpool followed whirlpool in fearfully quick succession, and I no sooner caught my breath after escaping one than we were struggling with another.

Our canvas cockle-shell appeared to undulate over the frothing waves rather than cut through them.

I seemed to feel every motion of the water through her thin skin.

In the very thick of it I could not help admiring the wonderful skill of the Indian in the bow.

Again and again he saved us from dashing against a rock, or whirling around broadside to the current.

"For mile after mile we were tumbled about, and tossed from wave to wave like a chip of bark.

My heart was in my mouth.

I could scarcely breathe.

My knees quaked, though my hand was firm, as, with eyes fixed upon Dennazee, I instantly obeyed every motion of his paddle.

"In this fashion, one hairbreadth escape succeeding another, we did half the distance unscathed, and made the shore by the aid of an eddy at the head of the Rapids of the Drowned.

These rapids got their forbidding name from the fate of eight voyagers, who lost their lives while attempting to run them in a large canoe.

Being studded with rocks, these rapids are extremely dangerous.

As the canon widens out sufficiently to leave a narrow beach at this point, we preferred portaging our canvas boat to impaling her on one of the rocks.

"It was a strange thing that our sudden appearance should have so startled two moose who were standing on the shore that, instead of retreating up the hill, they plunged boldly into the river, of whose pitiless power they evidently knew nothing, and were borne helplessly away to destruction.

A little later we saw their bodies stranded on a shoal, and the sight gave me a chill as I thought that that perhaps would be our fate, too, before we escaped from the Long Canon.

"We had hard work getting the boat and ourselves over the broken, boulder-strown beach beside the Rapids of the Drowned, and the boat had more than one 'close call' as we slipped and stumbled about.

I've no doubt Machard would have been glad to see it perforated with a hole beyond repair.

But by dint of great care and hard work we did manage to bring it through uninjured, and then we halted for a rest and a bit of dinner.

"When it came to starting again, Machard vowed he would not get aboard.

He pleaded to be allowed to follow us on foot; but I would not listen to him.

I needed him for ballast in the first place, and moreover, if we did get through alive, I could not afford to waste half a day waiting for him to overtake us.

Drawing my revolver, I ordered him to get on board.

He obeyed, trembling, and we started again, Dennazee as imperturbable as ever.

[Illustration: SHOOTING A FALL.

] "We had the worst part of the passage still before us.

The sides of the canon drew close together until they became lofty walls, between which the river shot downward like a mill-race.

The great black cliffs to right and left frowned upon us as if indignantly, and at every turn in the canon a whirlpool yawned, ready to engulf us.

Again and again I thought we were caught in a whirl, but in some marvellous manner Dennazee extricated us, and we darted on to try our fate with another.

"Extreme as our peril was, it had a wonderful thrill and excitement about it, and in the midst of it I found myself thinking that were I only in a big York boat I would be shouting for joy instead of filled with apprehension.

"The great difficulty was to keep our boat straight with the stream, for, as I have already told you, she was so pliant that she bent and twisted instead of keeping stiff, and more than once I felt sure she would cave in under the tremendous pressure upon her thin sides.

To make matters worse she began to leak again, and although I commanded Machard to bail her out with a pannikin, he did it so clumsily in his terror that I was afraid he would upset us, and had to order him to stop.

"We must have had an hour or more of this, when for the first time Dennazee spoke.

Turning round just for a moment he pointed ahead, and exclaimed, 'Hell Gate!'

"I knew at once what he meant.

We had almost reached the end of the canon.

There remained only Hell Gate, and our perils would be over.

_Only Hell Gate_!

I've not been much of a hand at praying, but I'm not ashamed to confess that I imitated poor Machard's example then.

As for him, the moment he heard what Dennazee said, he fell on his knees in the bottom, and, clinging to the thwart, set to praying with all his might and main.

"With a thrilling rush we swept around the curve and plunged into Hell Gate.

It is an awful place.

The walls of the canon are two hundred feet high, and not more than a hundred feet apart.

The deep water spins along at the rate of twenty miles an hour, while at the end is a sort of drop into a black, dreadful pool, where the whirls are the worst of all.

"We got through the narrow passage all right, and then, with a dive that made my heart stand still, entered the whirlpools.

There were three of them, and we struck the centre one.

In spite of our desperate efforts, it got its grip full upon us, and round and round we went like a teetotum.

"It is not at all likely that I shall ever forget that experience.

Our flimsy craft seemed to be trying to collapse every moment.

It writhed and squirmed like a living thing, and at every turn of the awful circle we drew nearer to its centre, which yawned to engulf us.

"I had given up all hope, and was about to throw away my paddle and prepare for the last struggle, when suddenly there came a great rush of water down the canon.

The whirlpools all filled up and levelled over;

for one brief minute the river was on our side.

"With a whoop of delight Dennazee dug his paddle deep into the water, and put all his strength upon it.

I seconded his efforts as well as I could.

The boat hesitated, then obeyed, and moved slowly but surely forward; and after some moments of harrowing suspense we found ourselves floating swiftly but safely onward, with no more dangers ahead."

Cameron ceased speaking, and picked up his pipe.

There was a moment of silence, and then Fleming, drawing a deep breath, said with a quizzical smile, "Perhaps you do know something about running rapids."