There were few rocks to avoid. Some of the rapids were
violent, but careful handling took us past every danger. There was
little chance to make a portage at several of these places had we
desired to do so. We gave them but a glance from the decks of the
boats, then dropped into them. In one instance I saw the _Edith_
literally shoot through a wave bow first, both ends of the boat being
visible, while her captain was buried in the foam.
We had learned to discriminate by its noise, long before we could see
a rapid, whether it was filled with rocks, or was merely a descent of
big water. The latter, often just as impressive as the former, had a
sullen, steady boom; the rocky rapids had the same sound, punctuated
by another sound, like the crack of regiments of musketry. All were
greatly magnified in sound by the narrow, echoing walls. We became so
accustomed to this noise that we almost forgot it was there, and it
was only after the long, quiet stretches that the noise was noticed In
a few instances only we noticed the shattering vibration of air that
is associated with waterfalls. Still there is noise enough in many
rapids so that their boom can be heard several miles away from the top
of the canyons.
Guided by these sounds, and aided by our method of holding the boat in
mid-stream, while making a reconnaissance, we were quite well aware of
what we were likely to find before we anchored above a rapid. We were
never fearful of being drawn into a cataract without having a chance
to land somewhere.
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