He fought like one possessed. There was never an instant's grace between judgment and execution; and both must be instantaneous, or else—destruction. Again and again the canoe plunged wildly toward the instant annihilation which was avoided only by the timely plunge of a paddle, guided by luck or instinct or both. The one ray of hope in Alan's mind sprang from the fact that, however rough, the rapids were short. Now, when he had been in their grasp a minute, he seemed to have been there hours.
His labourings were tremendous, unbelievable, inspired. The goal of safety was within sight when Alan's paddle broke, and the canoe swung broadside to a boulder, turned turtle, and precipitated both headlong into that savage welter.
As the next few moments passed he was fighting. like a mad thing against overwhelming odds. Then,of a sudden, he found himself swimming mechanically in the smooth water of a wide pool beyond the lowermost eddy, the canoe floating bottom up nearby, and Rose supporting herself with one hand on it.
Her eye met his, clear with adorable courage. He floundered to her side, panted instructions to transfer her hand to his shoulder, and struck out for the nearer shore. Both found footing at the same time and waded out exhausted.
Then Alan remembered the pursuit. He looked
