"But downstream—the current with us"
"How about those rapids?"
"We must shoot them!"
"Can it be done?"
"It must be!"
He offered no further objection, but turned at once and launched one of the canoes. Rose took her place in the bow, paddle in hand; and Alan was about to step in astern when a shot sounded and a bullet kicked up turf within a dozen feet. A glance discovered two figures debouching into the clearing. He dropped into place and, planting paddle in shallows, sent the canoe well out with a vigorous thrust. Two strokes took it to the middle of the pool, where the current caught the little craft and sped it through more narrow and higher banks. A moment more, and the mouth of the gorge was yawning for them.
Alan rose carefully to his feet for a reconnaissance. He looked back first, and saw the prow of the second canoe glide out from the banks. He looked ahead. The rapids were a wilderness of shouting waters, white and green. But there was no escaping that ordeal. The canoe was already spinning between walls where the water ran deep and fast. The-man settled down to work with grim determination, pitting courage and strength and experience against the ravening, bellowing waters that tore at the canoe on every hand.
