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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Go it, fellows -one last, big spurt!" he yelled. A sudden yell from shore told another story. The war canoe's nose was now six feet further along than the bow of the Preston canoe. "Come on, Dick! Come on! Come on!" "Speed! The last swift dash!" yelled Dick Prescott. "Bend to it!" Hartwell tried to call to his crew, but could not make himself heard.
It was already late in the day when we embarked. As the weather was fine and the lake perfectly calm, we paddled down the centre to enjoy the greater purity of the air, away from the banks. The trip was so enjoyable that we were tempted to go further, perhaps, than was prudent. At length, unwillingly, David begged Jack to turn the canoe's head homewards.
"Look out, Moses," said Van der Kemp. "There it comes. Let go the sheet. Keep good hold of your paddle, Nigel." The warning was by no means unnecessary, for as the canoe's head was turned to meet the blast, a hissing sheet of white water swept right over the tiny craft, completely submerging it, insomuch that the three men appeared to be sitting more than waist-deep in the water.
After the meal they began to track their canoe upstream, until they reached water where it would be possible to paddle, one of them towing with a line, and the other working hard with the paddle to keep the canoe's nose from the bank.
Though the portion of dry ground did not exceed fifty yards, yet they appeared to be living very comfortably, having formed huts with the canoe's sail and covering, and were amply supported by the fish their nets daily furnished. They sometimes had a change in their fare, by procuring a few ducks and other water-fowl, which resort in great abundance to the marshes, by which they were surrounded.
The mere keeping of the canoe's head to wind required all the attention of both master and man, while Nigel sat waiting for orders and looking on with mingled feelings of surprise and curiosity.
O I wish you were with me, Violette, ma chere. It is so delightful to go round and round." A little way beyond, not more than twice the canoe's length, rushed by roaring, the full tide of the river. "Beware, Annette, beware, for the love of heaven, of the river.
You don't mean to say Stop; we'll soon know. Oh, Goad! the canoe's gone!" There was a silence, an awful silence. Old Edward broke it. "She's drowned, sir that's what she is drowned at last; and she the finest woman in Wales. I knewed she would be one day, poor dear! and she the beauty that she was; and all along of that damned unlucky little craft. Goad help her! She's drowned, I say "
Saying this, they turned the canoe's head down stream again, and allowed it to drift, merely retarding its progress a little with the paddles. Suddenly Jacques uttered a sharp exclamation. "Mon Dieu!" said he, "it's plain enough now. Look there!" Jacques pointed as he spoke to the narrows to which they were now approaching with tremendous speed, which increased every instant.
Farther back within the domain, the vision is impeded by an impenetrable screen of foliage. These things are observed during the canoe's gradual approach to what I have called the gate of the vista.
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