For an hour the storm raged. A few flakes of snow mingled with
the descending rain drops. Then with a superb flash of lightning and
crash of thunder the storm passed as suddenly as it had come, though
for hours after they heard it reverberate among the distant peaks.
At last they embarked and proceeded along a smooth, swift-flowing river
for a short time. Then, however, the familiar roar of falls was heard,
the current increased rapidly in velocity and Milton made a landing for
observation.
They were at the head of the wildest falls that Enoch had yet seen.
The Canyon walls were smooth and perpendicular. There was no
possibility of a portage. The river was full of rocks against which
dashed waves ten to twelve feet high.
"We'll have to run it!" shouted Milton above the din of the waters.
"Powell did it and so can we. Give the Ida five minutes' start, Hard.
Then profit by the mistakes you see us make. All ready, Judge and
Forr!"
Under Milton's directions, they rowed back upstream far enough to gain
complete control of the boat before entering the falls. Then they shot
forward. Instantly the oars became useless. They were carried upward
on the crest of a wave that seemed about to drop them down an
unbelievable depth to a jagged rock.
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