lifted the child breast-high out of the water in his
powerful efforts to stem the current. In vain. Each
moment he was carried inch by inch down until he was
on the brink of the fall, which, though not high, was a
large body of water and fell with a heavy roar. He
raised himself high out of the stream with the vigour of
his last struggle, and then fell back into the abyss.
By this time the poor mother was in a canoe as close
to the fall as she could with safety approach, and the
little bark danced like a cockle-shell on the turmoil of