We embarked at the usual hour in the morning. In a short time Stalker came back and reported that the navigation was far more difficult than heretofore, though with caution we might get through. “Let’s try it by all means,” was the cry. We were getting bold, and thought that we could do anything with our raft. Stalker, accordingly, again went on ahead, and we poled and paddled towards an opening among the rocks which he pointed out. Suddenly our poles lost bottom, and we found the raft whirled on at a rate which prevented me from guiding it in the way I had hitherto done. The paddles were almost useless. All we could do was to let the raft drive on, and to try and avoid the dangers as they appeared. We had passed several rocks, against which, if we had touched them, the raft might easily have been knocked to pieces, when a huge rock appeared before us, round which the water rushed with the force of a mill stream.
In vain Garoupe tried to tow us off from it—it was too late to attempt to carry a rope to the opposite shore—in vain all hands paddled to keep it clear. The raft struck, and remained caught by the rocks, the water immediately swelling up and threatening to sweep off the goods on it. Garoupe, instantly telling Swiftfoot to jump in, paddled off with a rope to the opposite shore. In the meantime, I saw that the water was shallow between the raft and the shore near which we were jammed. Accordingly, I told Quick-ear to try it, which he did, and finding it shallow, began at once to carry the goods on shore. This appearing the best thing to be done, Trevor, I, and Peter set about helping him. We had already landed several things, and Trevor and Peter were with Gaby on the raft, when, suddenly, from its being so much lightened, the current lifted it up, and away it went floating off the rock and down the stream. Garoupe and Swiftfoot made an attempt to stop it with the rope, but that snapped, and the raft was hurried on. I ran along the bank, which was here tolerably smooth. I saw Trevor sounding with his pole, and the next moment he and his two companions leaped overboard, and attempted to drag the raft towards the shore. Utterly hopeless was the attempt. It was forced from their grasp. I saw Gaby frantically pulling at it; but his foot slipped, and he let go his hold. The other two leaped on it, and on it floated, while he with difficulty gained a pointed rock in the middle of the stream, where he sat, by no means like “Patience on a monument smiling at Grief,” but frantically calling out for the canoe to come to his rescue.
While this was taking place, Garoupe and Swiftfoot had embarked in the canoe, and were going in pursuit of the raft; but the channel they took carried them at a distance from poor Gaby—besides which, he would have upset the canoe had he attempted to get into it Quick-ear and I ran on, he taking the lead, over the rocky ground, with a rope which he had brought on shore, hoping to render assistance to our companions on the raft. Gaby, believing himself abandoned, shouted more frantically than ever. I could only urge him to stick fast till we could return to his assistance; and the rocks soon hid him from sight. Once more, after an arduous run over rough boulders, among which I expected every instant to fall and break my legs, if not my neck, I again caught sight of the raft sticking fast between two rocks. Ready had, as he always did, kept close to my heels whenever he saw that there was work to be done, and when I put the end of the rope Quick-ear had brought into his mouth, he at once comprehended that he was to swim off with it to Peter, to whom I shouted to call him. Ready accomplished his task, and we now thought that, at all events, we should be able to land the remainder of the goods. Once again Quick-ear and I waded off with the assistance of the rope; though the water was deeper and the current stronger than I fancied, with a heavy load on my shoulder; just, however, as we got on the raft it swung round, and the cleat to which the rope was fastened gave way.
The raft floated off into deep water, and was carried quickly towards some swifter rapids than we had just passed. Though we might escape with our lives, still, the greater part of our provisions would be destroyed, and without them we could not hope to prosecute our voyage round to Cariboo. Just at that critical moment the canoes reached us. Stalker and Garoupe towed with all their might. We all paddled, and, at length, finding bottom with our poles, forced the raft into a counter eddy, and then, without much trouble, reached the shore.
Our difficulties had now, however, only just begun. We had to unload the raft, and to transport all our goods by land to the foot of the rapid. However, with larger canoes, Stalker was of opinion that we should have had no difficulty in getting down the rapid. Each package was done up so as to weigh as much as a man could carry over rough ground. On examination, it was found that the bank opposite to that on which we had hitherto camped was the easiest for the portage. With much caution, and the aid of all our ropes, we therefore towed our raft across the river, and began unloading. Stalker, meantime, paddled up the stream to relieve poor Gaby from his unpleasant position. The rest of us were so busily occupied that we scarcely noted how time sped. I had made one trip to the end of the portage, and was lifting up another load, when Gaby’s voice saluted my ears. His clothes, still wet, clung to his thin body, and his countenance wore a most lugubrious expression.
“I guess, friend, we are in a pretty fix,” he observed.
He then told me that while he had been on the rock he saw three Indians in their war-paint and feathers, who had emerged from the wood and stood eyeing him as he sat on the rock; that soon they were joined by others, who drew their bows with arrows pointed at him; that one shot, but the arrow fell short, and that they shook their heads as if of opinion that they could not reach him. They then disappeared into the depths of the forest. This information, coupled with what Peter had asserted he had seen the previous night, made us fear that we were watched by Indians, who would very likely fall on us, if they found us unprepared to receive them. We considered ourselves, therefore, fortunate in having crossed the river so that they could not reach us unless they had canoes, and we had seen none on our way down. It was very heavy work carrying our property along the portage. When Stalker undertook to carry the raft down the rapid Gaby volunteered to accompany him. All we could do was to bring up the goods we had at first landed to a camp near the raft. We formed it among rocks which would afford us good shelter on either side should we be attacked by Indians. However, as the tribes in that direction are generally friendly to the white men, we did not expect to be attacked by a large body, though we thought it very possible that a few individuals might have formed a plan to cut us off and possess themselves of our property. So we kept a sharp look out, and the possibility of being attacked added greatly to our difficulties.