Part 6 (1/2)

John and Jesse grew very grumpy over the prestige Rob had gained by his journey through the rapids, and besought Uncle d.i.c.k to allow them also to make the pa.s.sage. Late in the third day, when most of the boats were through, they renewed their importunities, and he finally replied:

”Well, young men, I've about concluded to let you go through with the last boat. Francois says that he has been watching you all, and believes that you would not get 'some scares.' He says he will take you through in your own boat, which will be the last one of the brigade. The river has come up three or four inches since we struck in, and he says we can run through without uns.h.i.+pping much, if any, of our cargo, which doesn't amount to very much. Rob has made the trip, and I figure now that we are all in the same boat together. Sometimes it is necessary to be either a man or a mouse. I want to see you grow up men. Well, are you ready now?”

All the boys gladly said that they were, Rob insisting on accompanying the boat once more, as indeed was necessary, since there would be no transport after that.

They took s.h.i.+p at the head of the island, and were tooled across the shallow water to the head of the rapids on the farther sh.o.r.e. Here the men all disembarked and sat silently along the edge of the bluff, taking one of the pipe-smokes which make so regular a part of the _voyageur's_ day's employment. They seemed to get some sort of comfort out of their pipes, and almost invariably when undertaking any dangerous enterprise a quiet smoke was a part of the preparation.

Francois talked to them, meantime, seeing that they were eager to learn about the customs of this strange and wild country into which they now were going. He told them, motioning to the steep hillside on the right of the channel, that in the old times he used to pack stuff across the mile-and-a-half portage there for fifty cents a hundred pounds. It was hard work, and yet he made it pay. When they began to portage on the island, and not along the mountain-side, he had made as much as fifty dollars a day, for he got five dollars for taking a boat through the rapids, or thirty dollars for running it down to Fort McPherson; so that a season's work would bring him, in very good years, over a thousand dollars, if he worked.

”But yong man, she spend the mon',” said he, smiling.

John set down in his book the facts and figures, the date of 1871, which was the time when old Cap. Shott first ran a boat through the Grand Rapids. Since that time a few other pilots had come on who proved able to handle scows in white water. But old Cap. Shott and his long-time friend, Louis La Vallee, were now both of them old--”h'almost h'eighty year, she is, each of him,” said Francois.

”Well, now,” he added at length, ”we will ron h'on the _rapide_.”

He rose and motioned to his men, who once more took their places at the oars, as they had in the boat which carried Rob through. Again the bowman squatted on his short fore deck. Francois, the steersman, stood on his plank walk at the handle of the great steering-oar.

Gently they pushed out from sh.o.r.e, the last boat of the brigade.

”Here goes the _Midnight Sun_!” cried Jesse, waving his hat.

Uncle d.i.c.k watched them closely as the boat advanced. The boys spoke little or not at all, and John later accused Jesse of trying to pinch a piece out of the side of the boat, he held on so tight. But not one of them showed the white feather, nor made any trouble for the men in their work of running the fast water.

The boat at first ran along gently, the little waves lapping along the sides smartly, but not excitingly. Then at the end of the lower third the water gained in speed very much. At The Turn the waves were no doubt ten feet high. Francois, with a great sweep of his oar, fairly flung the boat athwart the current here, and the pa.s.sage was made with no more than a sc.r.a.ping on the dangerous lower rock--the one which Uncle d.i.c.k called Scylla. The upper one he called Charybdis.

”You'll learn what those two words mean when you go to school a little later,” said he, smiling.

Once beyond The Turn John and Jesse understood perfectly well what Rob had meant by saying that the bottom fell out of the river. They were excited, but had no thought of fear by the time they entered the last chute where the scow tobogganed down to the foot of the island. A moment later it was at rest once more in the eddy below the promontory.

Rob explained now about the log float which had carried the rope down to their boat when he first went through. There was, however, no longer need for the float to carry down a line to the boat. The brigade was through and the last scow below the island. The clerk and his taciturn companion were left alone. They stood now, both of them, waving their hats to the occupants of the _Midnight Sun_ as, after a little, at the command of Francois, she pushed out from the eddy and took her place in the long procession of the north-bound brigade, every man of which now felt a sense of relief, since the most dangerous part of the early journey, the portage of the Grand Rapids of the Athabasca, had been safely accomplished.

The flotilla was now strung out over many miles of water, but it was the intention to make several miles additional before stopping for the night. In the late twilight, here strangely long and bright, Rob went on with his notes in his diary, while John worked at his map, charting as best he could the right-hand channel through which they had made their exciting journey. Rob's notes later proved of interest to his friends, as they explained very much about the journey of this dangerous two hundred and fifty miles of the white-water transport.

”_Wednesday, June 4th._--Everybody busy all day. At 5 P.M.

most of the freight on the island, and getting loaded on cars. Slept in the little mosquito tents. Very busy day.

”_Thursday, June 5th._--Many pictures to-day, and we all were busy. Curious work running boats through the rapids and getting boat back to end of island. I think that rope that they let down to the boat is almost a quarter of a mile long. It takes twenty men or more to haul a boat up against the rapids, empty, of course.

”Off in the _Midnight Sun_ below the island late afternoon.

Ran the little Grand Rapids, and swung into the Second Eddy for supper. After that ran seven miles. Camp ground very bad. Mosquitoes getting worse.

”_Friday, June 6th._--A great many rapids to-day. The Buffalo seems mild to us after the Grand. The Brule Rapids we liked because they had some pep to them. At about 3 P.M.

we hit the Boiler Rapids, which is one of the worst. Name because a scow was lost here that was carrying a boiler up north. The boiler has never been recovered. Rapids full of boulders, and in low water very bad. Not very dangerous at this stage. Everybody was still as we went through this place and came into what they called the Rapids of the Drowned. They say a great many men have been drowned there, and it certainly looked bad. These two rapids are about a mile and a half altogether.

”Four boats were tied back because not everybody can run these rapids. Our boat was in the lead. Then four pilots walked back to bring through the boats which had been held up. We made pictures of them as they came through. Supper at 5 as we floated along, and then we dropped into the Middle Rapids and had a beautiful time.

”One or two canoes ran through with breeds. Pretty exciting.

They say few of these breeds can swim, but they don't seem to mind that. Saw several wrecks of scows along the sh.o.r.es here, and one boat upset in the middle of the rapids. Some machinery on sh.o.r.e below rapids, very rusty. Begin to understand why freight comes high. Sometimes half a cargo is wasted or lost. No farms, no horses, no cows. A good game country. They say the game and fish keep the white men alive. The little boy Charl' keeps with the good Sisters. He was scared going through the rapids, and so were they.

”On the Long Rapids, as we pa.s.sed through, we saw the fresh grave of one of the men who was drowned here the other day.