'll say I'm a coward?" he demanded without preface.
Again he looked each one in the eyes. "Or is there a man who'll even
hint that I ever did a curlike act?" And yet again he searched the
circle. "Well and good. I hate the water, but I've never been afraid
of it. I don't know how to swim, yet I've been over the side more
times than it's good to remember. I can't pull an oar without batting
my back on the bottom of the boat. As for steering--well, authorities
say there's thirty-two points to the compass, but there's at least
thirty more when I get started. And as sure as God made little apples,
I don't know my elbow from my knee about a paddle. I've capsized damn
near every canoe I ever set foot in. I've gone right through the
bottom of two. I've turned turtle in the Canyon and been pulled out
below the White Horse. I can only keep stroke with one man, and that
man's yours truly. But, gentlemen, if the call comes, I'll take my
place in La Bijou and take her to hell if she don't turn over on the
way."

Baron Courbertin threw his arms about him, crying, "As sure as God made
little apples, thou art a man!"

Tommy's face was white, and he sought refuge in speech from the silence
which settled down. "I'll deny I lift a guid paddle, nor that my wind
is fair; but gin ye gang a tithe the way the next jam'll be on us. For
my pairt I conseeder it ay rash. Bide a wee till the river's clear,
say I."

"It's no go, Tommy," Jacob Welse admonished. "You can't cash excuses
here."

"But, mon! It doesna need discreemeenation--"

"That'll do!" from Corliss. "You're coming."

"I'll naething o' the sort. I'll--"

"Shut up!" Del had come into the world with lungs of leather and
larynx of brass, and when he thus jerked out the stops the Scotsman
quailed and shrank down.

"Oyez! Oyez!" In contrast to Del's siren tones, Frona's were purest
silver as they rippled down-island through the trees. "Oyez! Oyez!
Open water! Open water! And wait a minute. I'll be with you."

Three miles up-stream, where the Yukon curved grandly in from the west,
a bit of water appeared. It seemed too marvellous for belief, after
the granite winter; but McPherson, untouched of imagination, began a
crafty retreat.

"Bide a wee, bide a wee," he protested, when collared by the
pocket-miner. "A've forgot my pipe."

"Then you'll bide with us, Tommy," Del sneered. "And I'd let you have
a draw of mine if your own wasn't sticking out