ered.

Suddenly, the channel seemed barred by two opposing bowlders, whose
points lapped each other. In reality, there was a way between them, by
the shortest of curves and of but little more than the canoe's width.
Pierre saw and measured the distance skilfully, but he had not counted
upon the opposing force of the water that rushed against them.

"Look--out! take----"

Behind the right-hand rock seethed a mighty whirlpool where the river
speeding downward was caught and tossed back upon itself, around and
around, mad to escape yet bound by its own power.

Into this vortex the canoe was hurled; to be instantly overturned and
dashed to pieces on the rock.

On its first circuit of the pool Adrian leaped and landed upon the
slippery bowlder--breathless, but alive! His hand still clasped the
pole he had been using to steer with, and Pierre----? He had almost
disappeared within the whirling water, that tossed him like a feather.

CHAPTER XV

SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION

For an instant Adrian closed his eyes that he might not see the
inevitable end. But--was it inevitable? At the logging camp he had
heard of just such accidents as this and not all of them were fatal.
The water in its whirling sometimes tossed that which it had caught
outward to safety.

He flung himself prone and extended the pole. Pierre's body was making
another circuit of that horrible pit and when--if--should it---- The
drowning boy's head was under the current, but his legs swung round
upon its surface, faster and faster, as they drew nearer the centre.

Then--a marvel! The long pole was thrust under the invisible arms,
which closed upon it as a vice.

"Hold! Hold! I'll pull you out!"

But for the hard labor of the past few weeks Adrian's muscles could
not have stood the strain. Yet they did, and as he drew the nearly
senseless Pierre upon the rock beside himself his soul went up in such
glad thanksgiving as he had never known, or might know again. A life
saved. That was worth all things.

For an hour they lay there, resting, recovering; then Pierre, himself,
stood up to see what chance there was for a fuller deliverance. He was
a very sober and altered Pierre, and his drenched clothing added to
the forlornness of his appearance.

"Nothing left but--us. Came nigh bein' only you. Say, Adrian, I shan't
forget it."

"How are we going to get ashore?"

"'Tisn't much harder'n Margot's stepping-stones. Done them times
enough."

Aga