At length, however, Scott threw down his pole.
"We're far enough and I want my supper," he said.

"Get hold of the paddles and let her shoot across." Driscoll grumbled half aloud, but made no determined protest, and paddling hard they headed obliquely for the opposite bank.

As they forged through the glittering water the current swept them down and Thirlwell noted that it was running faster than he had thought.

The river was wide and the ragged pines got indistinct as they rolled back up stream.

It looked as if the canoe were standing still and the banks moving on, only that the gleaming spray-cloud got rapidly nearer.