ain
and plucked up heart; but the worst was yet ahead. The oily calm below
the first rapid dropped into another maelstrom of angry waters. Into
this the _Scarborough_ was drawn by the terrible undertow. For a
moment the watchers on the bank could see nothing but the horns of the
bellowing, frightened oxen tied to the railing. Then the raft was
mounting the waves again. The seaworthiness of a raft is, of course,
well known. It may dip under water, or even split, but it seldom
upsets and never swamps or sinks. Before the other rafts ran the
rapids, two of them were first lightened of their loads. The men
preferred to pack their provisions over the precipices rather than take
the risk of losing them in the rapid. Nor was the packing child's
play. There was a narrow portage-trail along the ledges of the rocks,
and where the slabs of granite had split off Indians had laid rickety
poles across. Over these frail bridges the packers, with great
difficulty, carried the loads of the two rafts. Fortunately most of
them had long since discarded boots for moccasins.

All the rafts came through safely. The canoes were not so fortunate.
When the _Scarborough_ reached a sand-bar at the foot of the rapids,
the men were surprised to find three of their Toronto friends, who had
gone ahead in a canoe, now stranded high and dry. The canoe had sidled
to the waves, swamped, and sunk with everything the Toronto men {77}
owned, including their coats, tents, and boots. For two days they had
been awaiting the coming of the rafts. They were almost dead from
exposure and hunger.

Nine canoes in all were wrecked at this spot. One split on the reef.
Another was caught in the backwater. Others sank in the whirlpool
below the rapids. Others went under at the first leap into the
cataract. Two of the canoes had foolishly been lashed abreast. They
sidled, shipped a billow, and sank. All the men clung to the gunnels;
but one who was a powerful swimmer struck out for the shore. The
canoes stranded on the shore below and the clinging men saved
themselves. When they looked for their friend who had struck out for
the shore, he was no longer to be seen. These men were all from
Goderich, brought up on the banks of Lake Huron.

A similar fate befell a crew of four men from Toronto. Two of them
undertook to portage provisions along the bank of the canyon, while the
other two, named Carpenter and Alexander, tried to run the canoe down