It had a very difficult approach
and swung against the right wall, then the water was turned abruptly
to the left by a great pile of fallen boulders. The cresting waves
looked more like breakers of the ocean than anything we had seen on
the river.
We each had a good scare as we ran this rapid. Emery was completely
hidden from my view, he was nearly strangled and blinded by the waves
for a few seconds while struggling in the maelstrom; the _Edith_ was
dropped directly on top of a rock in the middle of this rapid, then
lifted on the next wave. I also had a thrilling experience but avoided
the rock. In the lower part of the rapid a rowlock pulled apart; and
to prevent the boat from turning sideways in the rapid, I threw up my
knee, holding the oar against it for a lever until I was in quieter
water, and could get the other rowlock in position.
Separated from my brother in this instance, I had an opportunity to
see the man and water conflict, with a perspective much as it would
have appeared to a spectator happening on the scene. I was out of the
heat of the battle. The excitement and indifference to danger that
comes with a hand-to-hand grapple was gone. I heard the roar of the
rapid; a roar so often heard that we forgot it was there. I saw the
gloom of the great gorge, and the towering, sinister shafts of rock,
weakened with cracks, waiting for the moment that would send them
crashing to the bottom. I saw the mad, wild water hurled at the
curving wall.
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