Then the
suction of the boat caught them and dragged them under, and for the
rest of the rapid I had all I could do to hang to the boat. As the
rapid dwindled I began to look for Emery, but was unable to see him,
for it was now growing quite dark, but I could see a fire on shore
that he had built. I tried to call but was strangled with the breaking
waves; my voice was drowned in the roar of the rapid. One of the
life-preservers was torn loose and floated ahead of me. Finally I got
an answer, and could see that Emery had launched his boat. As he drew
near I told him to save the life-preserver, which he did, then
hurriedly pulled for me. I remarked with a forced laugh, to reassure
him, "Gee, Emery, this water's cold."
He failed to join in my levity, however, and said with feeling, "Thank
the good Lord you are here!" and down in my heart I echoed his prayer
of thanks.
Somehow I had lost all desire to successfully navigate the Soap Creek
Rapid.
But our troubles were not entirely over. Emery had pulled me in after
a futile attempt or two, with a hold sometimes used by wrestlers,
linking his arm in mine, leaning forward, and pulling me in over his
back I was so numbed by the cold that I could do little to help him,
after what, I suppose, was about a quarter of an hour's struggle in
the water; although it seemed much longer than that to me.
We then caught the _Edith_ and attempted to turn her over, but before
this could be done we were dragged into the next rapid.
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