The river, attacking the limestones, had cut a channel under
the wall, then turned and ran with the wall, emerging about two
hundred feet below. Standing on a rock and holding one end of a
twenty-five foot string we threw a stone attached to the other end
across to the opposite wall. The overhanging wall was within two feet
of the rushing river; a higher stage of water would hide the cut
completely from view. Think what would happen if a boat were carried
against or under that wall! We thought of it many times as we
carefully worked our boats along the shore.
Between the delays of rain, with stops for picture making, portaging
our material, and "lining" our boats, we spent almost three days in
getting past the rapids called Upper and Lower Disaster Falls, with
their combined fall of 50 feet in little more than half a mile. On the
evening of September the 26th we camped almost within sight of this
same place, at the base of a 3000-foot sugar-loaf mountain on the
right, tree-covered from top to bottom.
Things were going too easily for us, it seemed; but we were in for a
few reverses. It stormed much of the night and still drizzled when we
embarked on the following morning. The narrow canyon was gloomy and
darkened with shreds of clouds drifting far below the rim. The first
rapid was narrow, and contained some large boulders. The _Edith_ was
caught on one of these and turned on her side, so that the water
flowed in, filling the cockpit.
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