Some loose ice, floating along the lake shores, had partly choked the stream, but there was a clear place near the centre, and into this the Wild Goose drifted. It was not long before she was caught in the strong current, which sent the ice cakes crunching and banging along her sides and the spray flying up into Earl's face. He had started to use the rudder, but now saw this was useless, and sprang forward with the long oar.
"Steady to the left! Not to the right! Swing her around a bit, you fellows over there! Easy now, easy! Shove off from that rock, Earl! Now then, let her down a few feet! That was a narrow shave, boys! There you go again! Steady now! steady! steady!"
So the cries and directions ran on, as the boat proceeded on her perilous voyage. The water was boiling on every side, and the lines which held the craft were as tight as whipcords. Considerable water had been shipped, and Earl was wet from head to foot. But he kept his place and shoved off, this way and that, with might and main.
"Hold hard!" suddenly shouted Foster Portney. "Look out, Earl; the line is going to break!"
The words were hardly spoken when snap! went the line, the boat end hitting Earl a sharp crack in the neck. Thus released, the Wild Goose swung around and made straight for a series of rocks which all had been working hard to avoid. Should she strike she would become a total wreck, beyond a doubt, and all their outfits would be lost.
CHAPTER XVI.
AN EXCITING NIGHT IN CAMP.
When the line parted, Foster Portney and Randy were thrown flat on their backs in the six inches of slush and water in which they had been wading along the edge of the rapids. But they did not care for this, the one thought of both was of Earl and how the boat would fare now that there was only one line by which to guide her.