"Well, look now," continued Henry Burns. "You can see the water whirling at that very spot. The ledge doesn't show above water, but it's there. What's the matter with working up to that, hanging on it till we get rested, and then make one quick push up over the top?" "Oh, well," said Harvey, "I'm game. You seem to guess things right. We'll try it, anyway." They pushed on into the first of the rapids, while the Ellison brothers, turning and espying what they were attempting, redoubled their efforts to make the carry. Tom and Bob cast a glance back, and also continued along the carry; but George and Arthur Warren, having seen Henry Burns's schemes work successfully before, turned and came out to the rapids. There they waited, ready to make the attempt should they see it prove successful, or to be in a position to put hurriedly for shore should it prove a failure. "Better come on. You're wasting time," called Tom Harris once, as he set his end of their canoe down on a shelf of ledge. But Henry Burns made no reply, while Harvey only waved his paddle defiantly. For several rods, Harvey and Henry Burns made fair progress, working quick and sharp, plying their paddles with rapid thrusts. Little clumps of white froth floated fast by them, indicating the swift running of the water, and its disturbance. Then the stronger current caught them, and they barely forged ahead. By the appearance of the water, looking down upon it as they struggled, they seemed to be flying; but it was the water, and not they, that was moving rapidly. They hung close by the little points of projecting ledge for moments at a time, making no headway. They redoubled their efforts, drove their paddles through the water with desperate energy, and gained the first mark they had set. Slowly the bow of the canoe crept up to a spot where the keen eyes of Henry Burns had noted the sunken ledge, at a point only a rod from the upper incline. This ledge did not show above water, but the boiling of the stream and an almost imperceptible sloping of the surface on either hand showed that it was there. Henry Burns leaned over the side of the canoe and gazed anxiously. Should the water there prove deeper than he had hoped, they would not ground, and must be carried back, their strength exhausted. But he had not been mistaken. In a moment the water suddenly shallowed. A hard thrust with the paddles, and the canoe grated gently. "Easy, Jack," cried Henry Burns. "She's hit. Get out the pole." Harvey seized the setting-pole from the bottom of the canoe, dropping his paddle in its place. He thrust it quick and with all his strength into the swift-running water. At a depth of about three feet it caught the rocky bottom and held. Harvey braced with the pole and shoved the bow of the canoe, which had touched on the part of the ledge that was close to the surface, a little farther ahead. "Great!" shouted Henry Burns. "Take it easy now. She'll stay if the pole don't slip."