The swift current caught us, flung us toward the south shore, but before we could make a landing flung us back toward the north shore.
Here arose dissension.

Seeing the north shore so near, I began to paddle for it.

Lop-Ear tried to paddle for the south shore.

The logs swung around in circles, and we got nowhere, and all the time the forest was flashing past as we drifted down the stream.

We could not fight.