s like it better than the captain and the pilot, to guesses
by their looks, and the women and children like it better than the men.
It is no doubt very thrilling and picturesque and wildly beautiful: the
children crow and laugh, the women shout forth their delight, as the
boat enters the seething current; great foaming waves strike her bows,
and brawl away to the stern, while she dips, and rolls, and shoots
onward, light as a bird blown by the wind; the wild shores and islands
whirl out of sight; you feel in every fibre the career of the vessel.
But the captain sits in front of the pilothouse smoking with a grave
face, the pilots tug hard at the wheel; the hoarse roar of the waters
fills the air; beneath the smoother sweeps of the current you can see
the brown rocks; as you sink from ledge to ledge in the writhing and
twisting steamer, you have a vague sense that all this is perhaps an
achievement rather than an enjoyment. When, descending the Long Sault,
you look back up hill, and behold those billows leaping down the
steep slope after you, "No doubt," you confide to your soul, "it is
magnificent; but it is not pleasure." You greet with silent satisfaction
the level river, stretching between the Long Sault and the Coteau,
and you admire the delightful tranquillity of that beautiful Lake St.
Francis into which it expands. Then the boat shudders into the Coteau
Rapids, and down through the Cedars and Cascades. On the rocks of the
last lies the skeleton of a steamer wrecked upon them, and gnawed at
still by the white-tusked wolfish rapids. No one, they say, was lost
from her. "But how," Basil thought, "would it fare with all these people
packed here upon her bow, if the Banshee should swing round upon
a ledge?" As to Isabel, she looked upon the wrecked steamer with
indifference, as did all the women; but then they could not swim, and
would not have to save themselves. "The La Chine's to come yet," they
exulted, "and that 's the awfullest of all!"

They passed the Lake St. Louis; the La Chin; rapids flashed into sight.
The captain rose up from his seat, took his pipe from his mouth, and
waved a silence with it. "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "it's very
important in passing these rapids to keep the boat perfectly trim.
Please to remain just as you are."

It was twilight, for the boat was late. From the Indian village on the
shore they signaled to know if he wanted the local pilot; the captain
refused; and then the steame