Not a detail of the world about him that might affect his labours escaped the eagle vision of his wide eyes, and his swift understanding taught him how to avail himself of every clemency which the scheme of Nature vouchsafed.
So the kyak progressed seemingly with inadequate speed, but in reality little less swiftly than the speed of the avenging creature’s desire. It gained incredible way against the surge of water that split upon its prow. And as the shadows of the mighty walls enveloped it, and grew ever more and more threatening, the man at the paddle laboured on without pause or hesitation, certain of the course, certain of his powers, certain that no earthly barrier was staunch enough to seriously obstruct him.
The kyak was hauled out of the water. It lay there on a shelving foreshore strewn with grey, broken granite, a graceful thing, so small and light as to look utterly inadequate in face of the terrific race of troubled waters that was speeding by. It was set ready for the portage. The man’s simple outfit was securely lashed amidships, and his precious rifle, long old-fashioned, but well cared for, was made fast to the struts that held the frail craft to its shape.
The Indian was standing at the water’s edge. He was gazing up-river where its course was a dead straight canyon several miles in length. It was wide, tremendously wide. But so high were its sides that its breadth became dwarfed. It was a gloomy, threatening passage of black, broken water, whose rushing torrent no canoe could face.
But the awe of the scene left Usak untouched. It was not the sheer cliffs that concerned him. It was not the swirling race of water blackened by the shadows. It was neither the might of the great river, nor the vastness of the hill country about it that pre-occupied him. It was the far-off white wall of mist and spray at the head of the passage, and the dull distant thunder of the Falls, the Grand Falls, the picture of whose might had lain hidden from the eyes of man throughout the centuries.
He stood for long contemplating the mysterious far-off. His object was uncertain. Perhaps the wonder of it had power to stir him. Perhaps he was not insensible to the might of the things about him for all the absorbing passion that filled him. Perhaps he was contemplating with a sense of triumph this last barrier which still remained to be surmounted.
At last he turned away. He came back to the burden which he knew he had to shoulder. He measured the little vessel, and the stowage of his outfit, with a keen eye for the necessity of his work. And that which had been done left him completely satisfied.
He bent down. He gripped the gunwale of the little craft and tilted it. Then with a swift, twisting movement he lifted, and, rearing his great body erect again, the vessel was safely set where his muscular neck checked it to a perfect balance.