CHAPTER XX
OUR FIRST DAY
Jim depended on me very largely for his orders, as he had to give his whole attention to the steering oar.
"Now, Jo, watch sharp for rocks," he yelled.
I nodded my head. We were almost at the beginning of our first real canyon. It seemed like going into a cave full of hundreds of roaring lions. The white-grey rocks rose up for a thousand feet or more and there was no sunlight at the bottom of the canyon, only a cold, forbidding gloom.
We had no time to become frightened, there was always something to do, some quick decision to make, no time for backing out.
Then we shot down into the gloom of the canyon with resistless force. Never shall I forget that turmoil of sensation that was like the turmoil of the river around us.
About a hundred yards ahead a great rock divided the river. We were bearing down upon it.
"Starboard," I yelled, bending my head in the direction, and pulling with all my might, while Tom backed water and I could see the bow swerve as Jim bent to the steering oar.
Then we swept sideways from the rack. I thought we were going to be sent square over, flopped like a pancake.