g the smaller stream. Tears were in Jim's
eyes as he took a last look at Piute. I did not have such a deep
affection for animals as Jim, though I thought a good deal of Coyote.

As the sun came up over the eastern height of the adjacent valley, we
were ready to start on our perilous trip.

"Now, shove her off," cried Jim. "Then to your oars."

Slowly we pushed her away from the bank, Jim at the stern, Tom amidship
and I in the bow. In a second the current caught her and with a slight
clip and rush we went down a little rapid, past the rock that Jim had
swum to, and then out into the main current of the Green, and we were at
last on our way to the Colorado.

For the first ten minutes nothing was said, for we had our hands full
taking our first lesson from the river, and learning something of the
ways of our boat.

I had the bow oar and Tom had the other oar just back of me on the
opposite side, while Jim was at the stern with the big steering oar,
which had taken him one day to make and half of another to put in place.

It was a mighty essential part of our equipment and Jim could guide her
in good shape as he stood at the stern, bending it this way and that.

We found that we were able to fight the most capricious currents with
Jim at the stern oar, and I pulling on one side and Tom backing water on
the other.

Our first preliminary run was through a ravine, where the river was
about two hundred feet wide. I had the most thrilling position in the
bow, as I could see first what was ahead.

For the first three miles our course lay straight and the water swept
steadily along with a tremendous power in it that made us feel our
insignificance.

But at the end of the three miles the river narrowed to a gorge and I
could hear the roar of rapids ahead, the first of many that we were to
encounter.

It is impossible to describe the peculiar sensation of being dashed
along helpless into something that we could not see, and the hazard of
which we could not imagine. Judgment must be instantaneous and a single
mistake meant destruction.

CHAPTER XX

OUR FIRST DAY

Jim depended on me very largely for his orders, as he had to give his
whole attention to the steering oar.

"Now, Jo, watch sharp for rocks," he yelled.

I nodded my head. We were almost at the beginning of our first real
canyon. It seemed like going into a cave full of hundreds of roaring
lions. The white-grey rocks rose up for a thousand feet