“All of that. But what’s eight days? I been in saddle longer than that many a time. I remember, back in ’97--stop that splashin’, Bug Eye! I had my bath!” “Back in ’97?” Bug Eye grinned. Pop became absorbed in the shore line and refused to answer. Bug Eye winked, and, resting his head on his arm, started to snore loudly. A sharp dig in the ribs from Pop convinced him of the error of his ways, and he sat up, an innocent look on his face. “Me, I’m tired!” he proclaimed. “When do we hit those rapids you been talkin’ so much about, Pop? Last time I came over here they was nothin’ but a few waves. I craves excitement, I do.” “You’ll get it,” Pop said laconically. “They’ll be more than a few waves this time. An’ that reminds me. Roy, you an’ Teddy been workin’ long enough. What say you give me an’ Bug Eye a crack at it? The rapids are just below here, an’ I want to do the steerin’ as we hit ’em. I been over ’em many times, an’ I think I can put us through all right.” “Yo’re a great thinker,” Bug Eye murmured, as he changed places with Teddy and received the board he was to use as a paddle. “Pop, what am I supposed to do with this here barrel stave, or whatever it is? Cheer you, or somethin’?” “When I say left, you paddle on the left. When I say right, you shift. That’s all.” “An’ when you say ‘here she goes,’ I take my little bath,” Bug Eye snickered. “All right, Pop. O.K.! Me an’ my flat board is ready.” “Are ready,” grinned Pop. “Yuh forget yore plural nominative, Bug Eye. Well, let’s see you work now!” Roy, who had given up his place and paddle to Pop and was seated in the bottom facing front, saw ahead of him that the banks of the stream were coming together--closing in. It had been long since he and Teddy had come over this route, and the landmarks were unfamiliar. But he knew that just below the point where the shores converged were the rapids. The river seemed to take on new strength now. The soft purr was developing into a roar, and Teddy, remembering the last time they had heard that, hunched his shoulders. But this sound was different, somehow, from the boiling of the stream after the storm. That had been an unwholesome noise, as though the river had suddenly taken upon itself an evil accomplishment, whereas the deep thunder that came to Teddy’s ears from the rapids below was the voice of a giant who is proud of his strength and who gives fair warning to any one who contests his supremacy. “Feel it pull?” Pop Burns asked excitedly, as they came nearer and nearer the rapids. “Wait till we hit the worst part! You’ll know yo’re in somethin’ then, let me tell yuh!” Teddy and Roy were too absorbed in the spectacle to answer. Directly before them a curtain of spray arose like a white cloud, pierced now and then by a jet of water that leaped upward like a silver fish. A cold haze hung over the boat--penetrating, knife-like--that sent the blood tingling through the veins. All four were leaning forward now, waiting, ready.