"
They swung across the stream, and as they did so they caught a glimpse
of Jonas. He was crouched in the bottom of the boat, his eyes rolling
above his life preserver.
"Didn't Na-che give you that Navaho charm, Jonas?" called Forrester.
"It'll take more than a charm to help poor old Jonas," said Enoch. "I
really think he'll like it in a day or so. He's got good pluck."
"He's only showing what all of us felt on our maiden trip," chuckled
Milton. Then he added, quickly, "Listen, Forr!"
Above the splash of the oars and the swift rush of the river rose a
sound like the far roar of street traffic.
"Our little vacation is over," commented Forrester.
"Easy now, Forr! We'll land for observation before we tackle a racket
like that. Let the current carry us. Be ready to back water when I
shout." He raised his voice. "Harden, don't follow too closely! You
know your failing!"
They rounded a curving wall, the current carrying them, Milton said, at
least ten miles an hour. A short distance now, and they saw spray
breaking high in the middle of the stream.
"We'll land here," said Milton, steering to a great pile of bowlders
against the right wall.
Enoch watched with keen interest the preparation for the descent.
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