"The cañon is about forty miles long, and in that distance the river falls quite five hundred feet. Old Lepine, who has piloted boats up and down the Liard for thirty years or more, asserts that once, when the water was unusually high, he went through the whole length of the cañon in a York boat in two hours. The old man may be a few minutes short of the record, but there is no doubt that in the spring, when the snow is melting on the mountain slopes, the river runs at a fearful rate. I had hoped for low water, but, as luck would have it, a sudden spell of intensely hot weather had set the snow going, and the Liard was just high enough to be a very ugly customer. "Well, we paddled out into the current, and then there was nothing to do but steer. I had the stern, and Dennazee the bow, while Machard clung tightly to the centre thwart, and was useful only as ballast. Like an arrow our little boat sped down stream, darting this way and that, dipping and dancing about like a cork, doing exactly what the water willed. "At the very first swirl I found out something that gave me an additional shiver. This was that the boat could bear very little pressure from the paddle. If the water pulled one way and the paddle the other, the frail thing squirmed and twisted like a snake instead of obeying the steersman, so that it was quite impossible to make her respond readily or to effect a sharp turn. No doubt Dennazee discovered this as soon as I did, but he gave no hint of it, as with intent face and skilful arm he did his part of the work to perfection. "The first few miles were not very bad, but we soon came to a place where whirlpool followed whirlpool in fearfully quick succession, and I no sooner caught my breath after escaping one than we were struggling with another. Our canvas cockle-shell appeared to undulate over the frothing waves rather than cut through them. I seemed to feel every motion of the water through her thin skin. In the very thick of it I could not help admiring the wonderful skill of the Indian in the bow. Again and again he saved us from dashing against a rock, or whirling around broadside to the current. "For mile after mile we were tumbled about, and tossed from wave to wave like a chip of bark. My heart was in my mouth. I could scarcely breathe. My knees quaked, though my hand was firm, as, with eyes fixed upon Dennazee, I instantly obeyed every motion of his paddle. "In this fashion, one hairbreadth escape succeeding another, we did half the distance unscathed, and made the shore by the aid of an eddy at the head of the Rapids of the Drowned. These rapids got their forbidding name from the fate of eight voyagers, who lost their lives while attempting to run them in a large canoe. Being studded with rocks, these rapids are extremely dangerous. As the cañon widens out sufficiently to leave a narrow beach at this point, we preferred portaging our canvas boat to impaling her on one of the rocks.