The events have begun. We struck a nice little run of rapids, and just when we got to the deepest part, the canoe slewed, hit a rock, and then over it went, and we with it. The next thing I knew, someone was dragging me up, blinking, choking, spluttering. I opened my eyes to behold my rescuer, the Prince! Don’t you think, A. D., I should be properly grateful to him? He saved my life—without an instant’s hesitation, Aunt says. So you see you owe your future wife’s very existence to him. I’ve got to be sweet to him, haven’t I?
It is now near the end of our first day in the wilderness. I do nothing but think how good it will be to see you again. I would like so much to be in New York to greet you on the dock, but instead I’m paddling with the Prince.
First day’s remarks by the party:
Sybil: “Oh! Ah! Heaven!”
Checkers: “Bully!”
Prince: “Bozhe moi!” (Whatever that means.)
Aunty: “This box has got soap! Not eggs!”
Polly: “I’m game for the next event!”
For supper we had beans, flapjacks, and tea. For beds, fir balsam.