nd sheet. When the craft could
not stand the pressure he let the sail blow slack, and then hauled the
sheet again, dipping his paddle to help her over a breaking wave. Sound
judgment was plainly needed and the man must instantly carry out the
decision he made. Handling a canoe in a breaking sea demanded higher
qualities than Agatha had thought. She was getting anxious, for the
rocks were nearer and one could see the angry surges sweep in tongues of
foam far up their sides. It was surprising that such a sea could rise on
a small lake. She could swim, but not much, and shrank from crawling
out, half-drowned and draggled, from the surf; for one thing, Thirlwell
would see her. She admitted that this was illogical and she ran worse
risks, but it troubled her. A few moments afterwards, Thirlwell changed
his course with a thrust of the paddle and slacked the sheet.

"All right now!" he shouted. "We'll find smooth water in a hundred
yards."

A steep rock, washed by spouting foam, detached itself from the others
and a narrow channel opened up between it and the beach. Agatha thought
it looked horribly dangerous, but Thirlwell headed for the gap. They
lurched through on the top of a curling wave, and she saw the mouth of
the river behind the rock. The current rose in crested ridges where it
met the wind, but the ridges were smaller than the waves on the lake and
gradually sank to splashing ripples as the canoe ran up stream between
dark walls of forest. The trees did not cut off the wind, which followed
the channel, and by and by Thirlwell looked at Agatha.

"We have made a good run, but it isn't often one gets a fair wind like
this, and poling against the stream is slow work. Still we'll stop and
pitch camp when you like."

"Shall we save a day for our prospecting if we go on until dark?"

"Yes," said Thirlwell, "we'll certainly gain a day."

Agatha was cold and wet and cramped. She longed to stop, but it was
important to save time and she wanted Thirlwell to see that she had
pluck.

"Then go on as far as you can," she replied.

She had half expected the _Metis_ to grumble, but they did not. It
looked as if Thirlwell had carefully chosen his men, and she found out
later that no fatigue she could bear troubled them. After a time, the
wind dropped as they ran round a bend, and getting close to the high
bank, they began to pole. At dusk they ran the canoe aground on a
sheltered beach, and Agatha landed, feeling very tired