uite, which we found growing on
the walls. The hole was patched with boards from the loose
bottom. This was painted; canvas was tacked over that and
painted also, and a sheet of tin or galvanized iron went
over it all. This completed the repair and the _Edith_ was
as seaworthy as before."

This is Emery's account of the "Christmas Rapid."

I will add that the freezing temperature of the water and the struggle
for breath in the breaking waves left me exhausted and at the mercy of
the river. An eddy drew me out of the centre of the stream when I had
given up all hope of any escape from the next rapid. I had seen my
brother on the rock below the head of the rapid and knew there was no
hope from him. As I was being drawn back into the current, close to
the end of the sheer wall on the right, my feet struck bottom on some
debris washed down from the cliff. I made three efforts to stand but
fell each time, and finally crawled out on my hands and knees. I had
the peculiar sensation of seeing a rain-storm descending before my
eyes, although I knew no such thing existed; every fibre in my body
ached and continued to do so for days afterward; and the moment I
would close my eyes to sleep I would see mountainous waves about me
and would feel myself being whirled head over heels just as I was in
that rapid; but this rapid, strange to say, while exceedingly rough
and swift, did not contain any waves that we would have considered
large up to this time. In other words, it depended on the
circumstances whether it was bad or not. When standing on the shore,
picking a channel, it appeared to be a moderately bad rapid, in which
a person, aided with life-preservers, should have little difficulty in
keeping on top, at least half the time. After my battle, in which, as
far as personal effort went, I had lost, and after my providential
escape, that one rapid appeared to be the largest of the entire
series.

It is difficult to describe the rapids with the foot-rule standard,
and give an idea of their power. One unfamiliar with "white water"
usually associates a twelve-foot descent or a ten-foot wave with a
similar wave on the ocean. There is no comparison. The waters of the
ocean rise and fall, the waves travel, the water itself, except in
breakers, is comparatively still. In bad rapids the water is whirled
through at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour, in some cases much
swifter; the surface is broken by