now both of them
old--"h'almost h'eighty year, she is, each of him," said Francois.

"Well, now," he added at length, "we will ron h'on the _rapide_."

He rose and motioned to his men, who once more took their places at
the oars, as they had in the boat which carried Rob through. Again the
bowman squatted on his short fore deck. Francois, the steersman,
stood on his plank walk at the handle of the great steering-oar.
Gently they pushed out from shore, the last boat of the brigade.

"Here goes the _Midnight Sun_!" cried Jesse, waving his hat.

Uncle Dick watched them closely as the boat advanced. The boys spoke
little or not at all, and John later accused Jesse of trying to pinch
a piece out of the side of the boat, he held on so tight. But not one
of them showed the white feather, nor made any trouble for the men in
their work of running the fast water.

The boat at first ran along gently, the little waves lapping along the
sides smartly, but not excitingly. Then at the end of the lower third
the water gained in speed very much. At The Turn the waves were no
doubt ten feet high. Francois, with a great sweep of his oar, fairly
flung the boat athwart the current here, and the passage was made with
no more than a scraping on the dangerous lower rock--the one which
Uncle Dick called Scylla. The upper one he called Charybdis.

"You'll learn what those two words mean when you go to school a little
later," said he, smiling.

Once beyond The Turn John and Jesse understood perfectly well what
Rob had meant by saying that the bottom fell out of the river. They
were excited, but had no thought of fear by the time they entered the
last chute where the scow tobogganed down to the foot of the island. A
moment later it was at rest once more in the eddy below the
promontory.

Rob explained now about the log float which had carried the rope down
to their boat when he first went through. There was, however, no
longer need for the float to carry down a line to the boat. The
brigade was through and the last scow below the island. The clerk and
his taciturn companion were left alone. They stood now, both of them,
waving their hats to the occupants of the _Midnight Sun_ as, after a
little, at the command of Francois, she pushed out from the eddy and
took her place in the long procession of the north-bound brigade,
every man of which now felt a sense of relief, since the most
dangerous part of the early journey, the portage of the G