The picturesque StLawrence . t oil in the air. Wewere in mid-river, far from our destination, withdesolate shores on either side, and wind andcurrent against us. The boat swung aroundhelpless amid the buffeting waves, and we hadnothing with which to relieve the situation exceptone slender oar and a broken paddle. I laboredwith the former and the skipper with the latter;but the craft was too heavy and the elements tooboisterous for us to make much of a success ofthis sort of navigation. We could not preventthe boat from swinging out of its course, and inorder to correct its erraticalness I had
The picturesque StLawrence . t oil in the air. Wewere in mid-river, far from our destination, withdesolate shores on either side, and wind andcurrent against us. The boat swung aroundhelpless amid the buffeting waves, and we hadnothing with which to relieve the situation exceptone slender oar and a broken paddle. I laboredwith the former and the skipper with the latter;but the craft was too heavy and the elements tooboisterous for us to make much of a success ofthis sort of navigation. We could not preventthe boat from swinging out of its course, and inorder to correct its erraticalness I had to shift myoar to the opposite side every few minutes. Sowe were carried down stream in spite of all wecould do. At length the skipper started his engine andgot us around a point to where the current wasless swift. Then he again had to shut off powerand we resumed our labor with the oar and thebroken paddle. My companion was by natureoptimistic, and though he sometimes swore andsometimes groaned, he every little while had an. m The Rapids 57 idea for fixing his engine. His hands were tooshaky for him to work with much expertness,and again and again he abandoned the task andtook up the paddle. Two or three motor boatspassed, but were far off across the great old man put his hands up at the sides of hismouth and tried to hail them, and he swung hishat. But the people in the motor boats neithersaw nor heard and soon disappeared frow own best speed would hardly have rivalledthat of a snail. Finally an Indian came along in a skiff. Ibeckoned to him, and he turned aside from hiscourse, and when he drew near rested on hisoars and regarded us curiously. My skipperexplained our trouble, and it was agreed that theIndian should take me across the river and leaveword at a certain boathouse to send help to thecastaway mariner. We got the old mans craftto the shore and there left him. Then away wewent over the white-capped river. My oarsmanwas a sinewy fellow who kept stea
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Keywords: ., bookauthorjohnsonc, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1910
