“What’s that roaring noise?”
“Him heap big falls,” Kernertok replied.
“Can we shoot them?”
“No. Have mak’ carry.”
The boys noticed that for some time the current had been growing swifter as the river narrowed. The banks on either side were very steep and from ten to thirty feet high.
“We land right round this curve,” Kernertok told them, as they approached a sharp bend in the river. “No other place before falls.”
“Which side?” Rex shouted.
“Right.”
As the canoe swept around the bend it was traveling at a speed of some fifteen miles or more an hour. The roar of the falls could now be plainly heard. Rex caught sight of the landing place, a narrow strip of sand between two large rocks, and dug his paddle into the water to turn the bow toward it. How it happened, he could never tell, but the paddle slipped from his hands just as he had the canoe headed for the shore. He made a frantic effort to recover it, nearly upsetting the boat, but the swift water whirled it away.
So quickly did it happen that the canoe swung around parallel with the shore before Jack, who was in the stern, realized what had happened.