*IX*
*IN THE WHITE WATER*
Upon awakening next morning Ken found the sun an hour high. He wasstiff and sore and thirsty. Pepe and the boys slept so soundly itseemed selfish to wake them.
All around camp there was a melodious concourse of birds. But theparrots did not make a visit that morning. While Ken was washing in theriver a troop of deer came down to the bar on the opposite side. Kenran for his rifle, and by mistake took up George's .32. He had asplendid shot at less than one hundred yards. But the bullet droppedfifteen feet in front of the leading buck. The deer ran into the deep,bushy willows.
"That gun's leaded," muttered Ken. "It didn't shoot where I aimed."
Pepe jumped up; George rolled out of his blanket with one eye stillglued shut; and Hal stretched and yawned and groaned.
"Do I have to get up?" he asked.
"Shore, lad," said Ken, mimicking Jim Williams, "or I'll hev to bereconsiderin' that idee of mine about you bein' pards with me."
Such mention of Hal's ranger friend brought the boy out of his lazy bedwith amusing alacrity.
"Rustle breakfast, now, you fellows," said Ken, and, taking his rifle,he started off to climb the high river bluff.
It was his idea to establish firmly in mind the trend of themountain-range, and the relation of the river to it. The difficulty inmapping the river would come after it left the mountains to wind awayinto the wide lowlands. The matter of climbing the bluff would havebeen easy but for the fact that he wished to avoid contact with grass,brush, trees, even dead branches, as all were covered with ticks. Theupper half of the bluff was bare, and when he reached that part he soonsurmounted it. Ken faced south with something of eagerness.Fortunately the mist had dissolved under the warm rays of the sun,affording an unobstructed view. That scene was wild and haunting, yetdifferent from what his fancy had pictured. The great expanse of junglewas gray, the green line of cypress, palm, and bamboo following thesouthward course of the river. The mountain-range some ten milesdistant sloped to the south and faded away in the haze. The riverdisappeared in rich dark verdure, and but for it, which afforded awater-road back to civilization, Ken would have been lost in a densegray-green overgrowth of tropical wilderness. Once or twice he thoughthe caught the faint roar of a waterfall on the morning breeze, yet couldnot be sure, and he returned toward camp with a sober appreciation ofthe difficulty of his enterprise and a more thrilling sense of itshazard and charm.
"Didn't see anything to peg at, eh?" greeted Hal. "Well, get your teethin some of this venison before it's all gone."
Soon they were under way again, Pepe strong and willing at the oars.This time Ken had his rifle and shotgun close at hand, ready for use.Half a mile below, the river, running still and deep, entered a shadedwaterway so narrow that in places the branches of wide-spreading andleaning cypresses met and intertwined their moss-fringed foliage. Thislane was a paradise for birds, that ranged from huge speckled cranes,six feet high, to little yellow birds almost too small to see.
Black squirrels were numerous and very tame. In fact, all the creaturesalong this shaded stream were so fearless that it was easy to see theyhad never heard a shot. Ken awoke sleepy cranes with his fishing-rod andonce pushed a blue heron off a log. He heard animals of some speciesrunning back from the bank, out could not see them. All at once a softbreeze coming up-stream bore a deep roar of tumbling rapids. Thesensation of dread which had bothered Ken occasionally now returned andfixed itself in his mind. He was in the jungle of Mexico, and knew notwhat lay ahead of him. But if he had been in the wilds of unexploredBrazil and had heard that roar, it would have been familiar to him. Inhis canoe experience on the swift streams of Pennsylvania Ken Ward hadlearned, long before he came to rapids, to judge what they were from thesound. His attention wandered from the beautiful birds, the moss-shadedbowers, and the overhanging jungle. He listened to the heavy, sullenroar of the rapids.
"That water sounds different," remarked George.
"Grande," said Pepe, with a smile.
"Pretty heavy, Ken, eh?" asked Hal, looking quickly at his brother.
But Ken Ward made his face a mask, and betrayed nothing of the grimnature of his thought. Pepe and the boys had little idea of danger, andthey had now a blind faith in Ken.
"I dare say we'll get used to that roar," replied Ken, easily, and hebegan to pack his guns away in their cases.
Hal forgot his momentary anxiety; Pepe rowed on, leisurely; and Georgelounged in his seat. There was no menace for them in that dull,continuous roar.
But Ken knew they would soon be in fast water and before long would dropdown into the real wilderness. It was not now too late to go back upthe river, but soon that would be impossible. Keeping a sharp lookoutahead, Ken revolved in mind the necessity for caution and skilfulhandling of the boat. But he realized, too, that overzealousness on theside of caution was a worse thing for such a trip than sheerrecklessness. Good judgment in looking over rapids, a quick eye to pickthe best channel, then a daring spirit--that was the ideal to be strivenfor in going down swift rivers.
Presently Ken saw a break in the level surface of the water. He tookPepe's place at the oars, and, as usual, turned the boat stern firstdown-stream. The banks were low and shelved out in rocky points. Thisrelieved Ken, for he saw that he could land just above the falls. Whathe feared was a narrow gorge impossible to portage round or go through.As the boat approached the break the roar seemed to divide itself,hollow and shallow near at hand, rushing and heavy farther on.
Ken rowed close to the bank and landed on the first strip of rock. Hegot out and, walking along this ledge, soon reached the fall. It was astraight drop of some twelve or fifteen feet. The water was shallow allthe way across.
"Boys, this is easy," said Ken. "We'll pack the outfit round the fall,and slide the boat over."
But Ken did not say anything about the white water extending below thefall as far as he could see. From here came the sullen roar that hadworried him.
Portaging the supplies around that place turned out to be far from easy.The portage was not long nor rugged, but the cracked, water-worn, rockmade going very difficult. The boys often stumbled. Pepe fell and brokeopen a box, and almost broke his leg. Ken had a hard knock. Then, whenit came to carrying the trunk, one at each corner, progress waslaborious and annoying. Full two hours were lost in transporting theoutfit around the fall.
Below there was a wide, shelving apron, over which the water ran a footor so in depth. Ken stationed Pepe and the boys there, and went up toget the boat. He waded out with it. Ken saw that his end of thisbusiness was going to be simple enough, but he had doubts as to whatwould happen to the boys.
"Brace yourselves, now," he yelled. "When I drop her over she'll comea-humming. Hang on if she drags you a mile!"
Wading out deeper Ken let the boat swing down with the current till thestern projected over the fall. He had trouble in keeping his footing,for the rock was slippery. Then with a yell he ran the stern far outover the drop, bore down hard on the bow, and shoved off.
The boat shot out and down, to alight with a heavy souse. Then itleaped into the swift current. George got his hands on it first, andwent down like a ninepin. The boat floated over him. The bow struckHal, and would have dragged him away had not Pepe laid powerful hands onthe stern. They waded to the lower ledge.
"Didn't ship a bucketful," said Hal. "Fine work, Ken."
"I got all the water," added the drenched and dripping George.
"Bail out, boys, and repack, while I look below," said Ken.
He went down-stream a little way to take a survey of the rapids. Ifthose rapids had been back in Pennsylvania, Ken felt that he could havegone at them in delight. If the jungle country had been such thatdamage to boat or supplies could have been remedied or replaced, theserapids would not have appeared so bad. Ken walked up and down lookingover the long white inclines more than was wise, an
d he hesitated aboutgoing into them. But it had to be done. So he went back to the boys.Then he took the oars with gripping fingers.
"George, can you swim?" he asked.
"I'm a second cousin to a fish," replied George.
"All right. We're off. Now, if we upset, hang to the boat, if you can,and hold up your legs. George, tell Pepe."
Ken backed the boat out from the shore. To his right in the middle ofthe narrow river was a racy current that he kept out of as long aspossible. But presently he was drawn into it, and the boat shotforward, headed into the first incline, and went racing smoothly downtoward the white waves of the rapids.
This was a trying moment for Ken. Grip as hard as he might, theoar-handles slipped in his sweaty hands.
The boys were yelling, but Ken could not hear for the din of roaringwaters. The boat sailed down with swift, gliding motion. When itthumped into the back-lash of the first big waves the water threshedaround and over the boys. Then they were in the thick of rush and roar.Ken knew he was not handling the boat well. It grazed stones thatshould have been easy to avoid, and bumped on hidden ones, and got halfbroadside to the current. Pepe, by quick action with an oar, pushed thestern aside from collision with more than one rock. Several times Kenmissed a stroke when a powerful one was needed. He passed betweenstones so close together that he had to ship the oars. It was all rapidwater, this stretch, but the bad places, with sunken rocks, falls, andbig waves, were strung out at such distances apart that Ken had time toget the boat going right before entering them.
Ken saw scarcely anything of the banks of the river. They blurred inhis sight. Sometimes they were near, sometimes far. The boat turnedcorners where rocky ledges pointed out, constricting the stream andmaking a curved channel. What lay around the curve was always aquestion and a cause for suspense. Often the boat raced down a chuteand straight toward a rocky wall. Ken would pull back with all hismight, and Pepe would break the shock by striking the wall with his oar.
More than once Pepe had a narrow escape from being knocked overboard.George tried to keep him from standing up. Finally at the end of a longrapid, Pepe, who had the stern-seat, jumped up and yelled. Ken saw astone directly in the path of the boat, and he pulled back on the oarswith a quick, strong jerk. Pepe shot out of the stern as if he had beenflung from a catapult. He swam with the current while the boat drifted.He reached smooth water and the shore before Ken could pick him up.
It was fun for everybody but Ken. There were three inches of water inthe boat. The canvas, however, had been arranged to protect guns,grips, and supplies. George had been wet before he entered the rapids,so a little additional water did not matter to him. Hal was almost aswet as Pepe.
"I'm glad that's past," said Ken.
With that long rapid behind him he felt different. It was what he hadneeded. His nervousness disappeared and he had no dread of the nextfall. While the boys bailed out the boat Ken rested and thought. Hehad made mistakes in that rapid just passed. Luck had favored him. Hewent over the mistakes and saw where he had been wrong, and how he couldhave avoided them if he had felt right. Ken realized now that this wasa daredevil trip. And the daredevil in him had been shut up in dread.It took just that nervous dread, and the hard work, blunders andaccidents, the danger and luck, to liberate the spirit that would makethe trip a success. Pepe and George were loud in their praises of Ken.But they did not appreciate the real hazard of the undertaking, and ifHal did he was too much of a wild boy to care.
"All aboard," called George.
Then they were on their way again. Ken found himself listening forrapids. It was no surprise to hear a dull roar round the next bend.His hair rose stiffly under his hat. But this time he did not feel thechill, the uncertainty, the lack of confidence that had before weakenedhim.
At the head of a long, shallow incline the boys tumbled overboard, Kenand Hal at the bow, Pepe and George at the stern. They waded with thebow up-stream. The water tore around their legs, rising higher andhigher. Soon Pepe and George had to climb in the boat, for the waterbecame so deep and swift they could not wade.
"Jump in, Hal," called Ken.
Then he held to the bow an instant longer, wading a little farther down.This was ticklish business, and all depended upon Ken. He got the sternof the boat straight in line with the channel he wanted to run, then heleaped aboard and made for the oars. The boat sped down. At the bottomof this incline was a mass of leaping green and white waves. The bluntstern of the boat made a great splash and the water flew over the boys.They came through the roar and hiss and spray to glide into a mill-racecurrent.
"Never saw such swift water!" exclaimed Ken.
This incline ended in a sullen plunge between two huge rocks. Ken sawthe danger long before it became evident to his companions. There wasno other way to shoot the rapid. He could not reach the shore. He mustpass between the rocks. Ken pushed on one oar, then on the other, tillhe got the boat in line, and then he pushed with both oars. The boatflew down that incline. It went so swiftly that if it had hit one ofthe rocks it would have been smashed to kindling wood. Hal crouchedlow. George's face was white. And Pepe leaned forward with his bigarms outstretched, ready to try to prevent a collision.
Down! down with the speed of the wind! The boat flashed between theblack stones. Then it was raised aloft, light as a feather, to crashinto the back-lashers. The din deafened Ken; the spray blinded him.The boat seemed to split a white pall of water, then, with many abounce, drifted out of that rapid into little choppy waves, and fromthem into another long, smooth runway.
Ken rested, and had nothing to say. Pepe shook his black head. Hallooked at his brother. George had forgotten his rifle. No one spoke.
Soon Ken had more work on hand. For round another corner lay more fastwater. The boat dipped on a low fall, and went down into the midst ofgreen waves with here and there ugly rocks splitting the current. Thestream-bed was continually new and strange to Ken, and he had never seensuch queer formation of rocks. This rapid, however, was easy tonavigate. A slanting channel of swift water connected it with anotherrapid. Ken backed into that one, passed through, only to face another.And so it went for a long succession of shallow rapids.
A turn in the winding lane of cypresses revealed walls of gray, betweenwhich the river disappeared.
"Aha!" muttered Ken.
"Ken, I'll bet this is the place you've been looking for," said Hal.
The absence of any roar of water emboldened Ken. Nearing the head ofthe ravine, he stood upon the seat and looked ahead. But Ken could notsee many rods ahead. The ravine turned, and it was the deceiving turnsin the river that he had feared. What a strange sensation Ken had whenhe backed the boat into the mouth of that gorge! He was forced againsthis will. Yet there seemed to be a kind of blood-tingling pleasure inthe prospect.
The current caught the boat and drew it between the gray-green walls ofrock.
"It's coming to us," said the doubtful George.
The current ran all of six miles an hour. This was not half as fast asthe boys had traveled in rapids, but it appeared swift enough because ofthe nearness of the overshadowing walls. In the shade the water took ona different coloring. It was brown and oily. It slid along silently.It was deep, and the swirling current suggested power. Here and therelong, creeping ferns covered the steep stone sides, and above ran astream of blue sky fringed by leaning palms. Once Hal put his hands tohis lips and yelled: "Hel-lo!" The yell seemed to rip the silence andbegan to clap from wall to wall. It gathered quickness until it clappedin one fiendish rattle. Then it wound away from the passage, growingfainter and fainter, and at last died in a hollow echo.
"Don't do that again," ordered Ken.
He began to wish he could see the end of that gorge. But it grewnarrower, and the shade changed to twilight, and there were no long,straight stretches. The river kept turning corners. Quick to note theslightest change in conditions, Ken felt a breeze, merely a zephyr, fanhis
hot face. The current had almost imperceptibly quickened. Yet itwas still silent. Then on the gentle wind came a low murmur. Ken'spulse beat fast. Turning his ear down-stream, he strained his hearing.The low murmur ceased. Perhaps he had imagined it. Still he keptlistening. There! Again it came, low, far away, strange. It mighthave been the wind in the palms. But no, he could not possibly persuadehimself it was wind. And as that faint breeze stopped he lost the soundonce more. The river was silent, and the boat, and the boys--it was asilent ride. Ken divined that his companions were enraptured. But thisride had no beauty, no charm for him.
There! Another faint puff of wind, and again the low murmur! Hefancied it was louder. He was beginning to feel an icy dread when allwas still once more. So the boat drifted swiftly on with never a gurgleof water about her gunwales. The river gleamed in brown shadows. Kensaw bubbles rise and break on the surface, and there was a slight riseor swell of the water toward the center of the channel. This botheredhim. He could not understand it. But then there had been many otherqueer formations of rock and freaks of current along this river.
The boat glided on and turned another corner, the sharpest one yet. Along, shadowy water-lane, walled in to the very sides, opened up toKen's keen gaze. The water here began to race onward, still wonderfullysilent. And now the breeze carried a low roar. It was changeable yetpersistent. It deepened.
Once more Ken felt his hair rise under his hat. Cold sweat wet hisskin. Despite the pounding of his heart and the throb of his veins, hisblood seemed to clog, to freeze, to stand still.
That roar was the roar of rapids. Impossible to go back! If there hadbeen four sets of oars, Ken and his comrades could not row the heavyboat back up that swift, sliding river.
They must go on.