In spite of the horror of the moment, Ken realized that the lightening of the boat made it more buoyant, easier to handle. That weight in the bow had given him an unbalanced craft. But now one stroke here and one there kept the stern straight. The palm-tree loomed higher and closer through the brightening mist. Ken no longer felt the presence of the walls. The thunderous roar had begun to lose some of its volume. Then with a crash through a lashing wave the boat raced out into the open light. Ken saw a beautiful foam-covered pool, down toward which the boat kept bumping over a succession of diminishing waves. He gave a start of joy to see Pepe’s black head bobbing in the choppy channel. Pepe had beat the boat to the outlet. He was swimming easily, and evidently he had not been injured. Ken turned the bow toward him. But Pepe did not need any help, and a few more strokes put him in shallow water. Ken discovered that the boat, once out of the current, was exceedingly loggy and hard to row. It was half full of water. Ken’s remaining strength went to pull ashore, and there he staggered out and dropped on the rocky bank. The blue sky was very beautiful and sweet to look at just then. But Ken had to close his eyes. He did not have strength left to keep them open. For a while all seemed dim and obscure to him. Then he felt a dizziness, which in turn succeeded to a racing riot of his nerves and veins. His heart gradually resumed a normal beat, and his bursting lungs seemed to heal. A sickening languor lay upon him. He could not hold little stones which he felt under his fingers. He could not raise his hands. The life appeared to have gone from his legs. All this passed, at length, and, hearing Hal’s voice, Ken sat up. The outfit was drying in the sun; Pepe was bailing out the boat; George was wiping his guns; and Hal was nursing a very disheveled little racoon. “You can bring on any old thing now, for all I care,” said Hal. “I’d shoot Lachine Rapids with Ken at the oars.” “He’s a fine boatman,” replied George. “Weren’t you scared when we were in the middle of that darned place?” “Me? Naw!” “Well, I was scared, and don’t you forget it,” said Ken to them. “You were all in, Ken,” replied Hal. “Never saw you so tuckered out. The day you and Prince went after the cougar along that cañon precipice--you were all in that time. George, it took Ken six hours to climb out of that hole.” “Tell me about it,” said George, all eyes. “No stories now,” put in Ken. “The sun is still high. We’ve got to be on our way. Let’s look over the lay of the land.” Below the pool was a bold, rocky bluff, round which the river split. What branch to take was a matter of doubt and anxiety to Ken. Evidently this bluff was an island. It had a yellow front and long bare ledges leading into the river.