lower down. Think of
them, dear heart, the father and the lover!"

Dorothy did think, and breathed a prayer that God would
nerve the arm of Pepin and give them both faith and
courage.

But the river was in flood, and the current rushed like
a mill-race. Dorothy fairly held her breath as the canoe
rode over the surging waters. The river seemed to narrow,
and great black walls of rock wet with spray and streaked
with patches of orange and green closed in upon them.
They came to a bend where the water roared and boiled
angrily, its surface being broken with great blue
silver-crested furrows. Suddenly Pepin uttered a strange,
hoarse cry. There had been an immense landslide, and the
entire channel had been altered. Right in their path lay
a broad whirlpool. Pepin paddled for dear life, while
the perspiration stood out in beads upon his forehead.
His face was set and there was a strained look in his
eyes. Dorothy clasped her hands, praying aloud, but
uttering no word of fear.

"Courage, courage," Pepin cried. "The good Lord will not
forsake. Courage!"

The muscles stood out like knots on his great arms. His
body inclined forward and his paddle flashed and dipped
with lightning, unerring strokes.

The canoe leapt out of the water, and then shot out of
that swirling, awful ring into the headlong stream again.

"Houp-la, Hooray!" cried Pepin. "Thanks be to the good
God! Courage, _mon ami!_"

And then the words died on his lips, and Dorothy perceived
a sickly grey overspread his face as he stared ahead.
She looked and saw a great mass of rock right in the
centre of the stream, as if a portion of the cliff had
fallen into it, dividing the passage. Pepin, who had
somewhat relaxed his efforts, now began to ply his paddle
again with redoubled vigour. His hair stood on end, the
veins swelled on his forehead, and his body was hunched
forward in a grotesque fashion. Once he turned and,
looking swiftly over his shoulder, cried something to
Dorothy. But the thundering of the waters was now so
great that his voice was drowned. The canoe was heading
straight for the rock, as an arrow speeds from the bow.
Dorothy closed her eyes and prayed. There was a lurch,
the canoe heeled over until the water poured in, she
opened her eyes and clung to the sides for dear life,
and then it shot past the menacing death, just missing
it by a hand's breadth.

But what was the matter with the river? It had contracted
until it was not more