“This is better than walking,” said Conacher.
Loseis agreed that it was; nevertheless she looked with some trepidation to see what each new bend of the unknown river had to show.
Conacher assured her on the word of a geologist that as long as it ran between dirt banks there could be no serious obstruction to navigation; when rocks appeared, then look out! He had note-book and compass out to make memoranda of its course. He calculated that the current was running about five miles an hour.
The sun was hot to-day; basking deliciously in its rays, the girl fell into a comfortable doze. The scenery was beautiful and monotonous; they looked at it, only partly aware of what they were looking at, a half smile fixed on their lips. Thus they recuperated from the fatigues of the past few days. Since the raft did not move through the water, but with the water, it came to seem as if it was not moving at all. The raft was the fixed point, and the shores were being slowly rolled past them like a panorama on great spools.
This pleasant dream was rudely broken into by the sound of a hoarse roar downstream.
“Rapid!” said Mary-Lou, moving towards an oar.
Loseis looked reproachfully at Conacher.
They edged the raft close inshore where they could land quickly if need be.
“Let’s have a look at it before you call me a liar,” said Conacher.
Rounding the outside of a bend, they came in view of the white horses leaping below. An exclamation of fear broke from the girls. Conacher caught hold of a fallen tree to stay their progress while he studied the white water.