fear of death. If I could not save
her, I felt it would be a good end to go down into the green depths
attempting it.

Then the canoe lurched forward half its length clear of the water, a white
haze eddied about us, the sunlight went out, and we were in the canyon,
shooting down the mad rush of a rapid toward eternity. I plied the paddle
my hardest to keep the frail craft head on, that she might not roll over
by sheering athwart the stream, not because I had any hope of escape, but
that it seemed better to go under fighting. The work was severe enough,
as, not having learned the back-feather under water, I must dip the blade
on either side alternately, while each time that I dare turn my eyes
backward a moment the sight of Grace kneeling with set white face in the
stern further strengthened me. The pace grew a little easier as we drew
out into a somewhat slacker flow, and I made shift with an empty
fruit-can to free the craft of water, until Grace spoke, and her words
reached me brokenly through the deeper growling of the river:

"Do you think there is any chance of safety?"

"Yes," I answered stoutly, though it is probable my voice belied me. It
was so strained I could hardly recognize it. "The canoe may keep afloat
until we reach the other end, or perhaps we can find a bar to land on and
climb up somewhere." Then I felt glad that my shoulders were turned toward
her as she said:

"I am afraid it is a very small one. There is a fall and a whirlpool
ahead, and no one could climb that awful precipice--look!"

The canoe was shooting onward through dim shadow very fast but more
steadily, and raising my eyes from the dull green water before us--these
craft are always paddled with one's face toward the bow--I looked about me
hopelessly. In these days of easy travel there are doubtless many who have
from a securely railed-off platform gazed down into the black depths of a
Pacific Slope canyon upon a river that seems a narrow thread in the great
gulf below. These will have some idea of what I saw, but they may take the
word of one who knows, which is easier than making the experiment, that
such places look very much worse from the bottom. Those who have not may
try to picture tremendous--and the word is used with its amplest
significance--walls of slightly overhanging rock, through which aided by
grinding boulders and scoring shingle, the river has widened as well as
deepened its channel a little every century, while betwee