. His face was set and his mouth shut tight, but he was
paddling hard and she heard the others' labored breath as they kept time
with him. The reason for their haste, however, was not plain; the storm
was terribly violent, but they would be no safer in the woods than on
the lake. Yet it was obvious that they wanted to reach land.

After a stunning crash, the thunder began to roll away, the lightning
glimmered fitfully farther off, and a torrent of rain broke upon the
canoes. Agatha was wet before she could put on her slicker, and when she
sat, huddled together, with head bent to shield her face from the
deluge, she could not see fifty yards in front. The water was pitted by
the rain, which rebounded from its surface with angry splashes. It ran
down the half-breeds' faces and soaked their gray shirts, but they did
not stop paddling to put on their coats. Agatha wondered with some
uneasiness what they thought was going to happen.

The rain got lighter suddenly and a cold draught touched her forehead.
She saw Thirlwell glance astern, although he did not miss a stroke. His
soaked hat drooped about his head and his thin overalls were dripping;
she thought he saw she was looking at him, but he did not speak. Then
the haze that had shut them in rolled back and a dark line advanced
across the lake. It had a white edge and there was a curious humming,
rippling noise that got louder. Thirlwell signed to one of the _Metis_,
who stepped a mast in the hole through a beam and loosed a small sail.
The sail blew out like a flag, snapping violently, and the man struggled
hard to push up the pole that extended its peak. Then he hauled the
sheet, and the canoe swayed down until her curving gunwale was in the
water. The half-breed moved to the other side and Thirlwell beckoned
Agatha.

"Come aft by me!"

She obeyed, although it was difficult to crawl over the cargo in the
bottom of the sharply slanted craft. The humming noise had changed to a
shriek, but it did not drown the turmoil of the water. Short waves with
black furrows between them rolled up astern and although they were not
high they looked angry. Agatha saw that Thirlwell wanted to trim the
canoe. He held a long paddle with the handle jambed against the pointed
stern, and the canoe's side rose out of the water as she paid off before
the wind.

"We could do nothing with the paddles," he said. "A sail's no use in a
river-canoe, but these heavy freighters run pretty well. Lucki