Emery caught
up the oars, while I could do nothing but hold to the upturned boat,
half filled with water, striving to drag us against the wall on the
left side of the stream. It was no small task to handle the two boats
in this way, but Emery made it; then, when he thought we were sure of
a landing, the _Edith_ dragged us into the river again. Two more small
rapids were run as we peered through the darkness for a landing.
Finally we reached the shore over a mile below the Soap Creek Rapid.
We were on the opposite side of the stream from that where we had
unloaded the _Defiance_. This material would have to stay where it was
that night.
While bailing the water from the _Edith_ we noticed a peculiar odour,
and thought for a while that it might be the body of the man who was
drowned at the ferry, but later we found it came from a green
cottonwood log that had become water-soaked, and was embedded in the
sand, close to our landing. It was Emery's turn to do the greater part
of the camp work that night, while I was content to hug the fire,
wrapped in blankets, waiting for the coffee to boil.
CHAPTER XVIII
MARBLE HALLS AND MARBLE WALLS
There was little of the spectacular in our work the next day as we
slowly and laboriously dragged an empty boat upstream against the
swift-running current, taking advantage of many little eddies, but
finding much of the shore swept clean. I had ample opportunity to
ponder on the wisdom of my attempt to save time by running the Soap
Creek Rapid instead of making a portage, while we carried our loads
over the immense boulders that banked the stream, down to a swift
piece of water, past which we could not well bring the boats or while
we developed the wet plates from the ruined plate-holders.
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