Ere his passengers could answer, the canoe leaped over the fall, into the seething waters of the rapids.
With tense lips and wide eyes the boys gazed at the merciless, sharp-pointed rocks whose presence lashed the river into foam. So many were there that it seemed impossible the canoe could be guided in and out among them, and when a shower of spray drenched them, after a long leap, they screamed.
“No move!” shrieked the Indian, his shrill command audible even above the roar of the rapids.
As they leaped, seemingly from white crest to white crest without mishap, the courage of the young passengers returned, and looking back, they beheld the redman, kneeling on a crossbar, his face stolid, his eyes keenly alert, only the play of his splendid arm muscles, as he deftly turned his paddle, indicating that he was alive.
Confidence established in his ability, Phil and Ted yelled in pure delight as they raced along at express-train speed, and when, with a final leap, they shot into calm water, their one regret was that the rapids were not longer.
CHAPTER XIII
THROUGH ONTO SUPERIOR
“I wonder if we have time to shoot the rapids again,” exclaimed Ted, his blood a-tingle from the thrill of the dash through the swirling foam, as the three of them walked up to the canal, the Indian towing his canoe. “How much would you do it for, Chief?” The boy had first thought to call the redman by his name, then, remembering that Captain Perkins had avoided its use, he had employed the latter’s mode of address.
“Same price, two dollar,” grunted Afraid-of-his-wife.
“You certainly are a robber,” laughed Phil. “The second time is always cheaper, you know.”